A Different Sort of HateA Poem by the in betweenJust a thought
Come and take a look at the enemy's gates...
Dark iron and grey bricks all cluttered. Eyes fill with fire and a fist baring white knuckles... The broken bottles and witnesses absent Arouses unquenched revenge held back for so long. How sweet (it feels now) would it be to inflict pain... but only words will be the weapons used. To see the enemy feel remores and guilt. Bothered and never able to sleep, never able to feel normal again. Happy. Now this would be true vengence. Don't you agree? © 2010 the in betweenFeatured Review
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12 Reviews Added on August 5, 2010 Last Updated on August 6, 2010 Author
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