Truth

The depths of a crazed mind
Is where I enjoy to spend
The most of my time.
I am what helps write
All things good or evil
And make them alike.
You see, there is a primal need
For everyone to believe
That they hurt and torture
To bring about their own glee.
They call it bloodlust,
Or sadism,
But I must confess that
It truly is neither.
It is this attention to the horror
That shows us what is brighter.
Dark thoughts is what we yearn to hold
So that a single torch
Burns one billion fold
In the center of our very being
So that good may continue its convening.
We are condemned by the ones
That we love if we mention violence, torture,
Or blood. They have not seen that
The most gentle of souls are
The ones whose hearts

Have the largest, dark hole.