Black poison swims through the air
in smoky tendrils. You breathe it in and it courses through your veins like
some miracle medicine. Your fists clench and you can see the hot dense air
radiating from you. You begin to sweat, you face becomes blotchy and red as you
boil and brood. Your thoughts become irrational, your mind sees things that don’t
actually exist; plots and schemes to bring you down. You lash out at any and
everything. You take everything personal and hate with all of your being. You
think yourself superior and as a ruler…until one day…your own hate becomes the
death of you. No one will come to mourn for you, there is no one at your
funeral, just a priest reading to an empty room and a casket filled with dead
hate, for your anger has made you an enemy to all. Your anger…was the death of
you.