A Painted Picture

Can you really see?

Passionate hatred dripping off the souls

dead to the world around them.

Oozing into the caverns of what makes the body tick ,

          Festering in the wounds of ripped flesh once holding a heart. Tearing and stretching the skin until

Only darkness remains.

A pit of emptiness used to contain the wrath of pure abhorrence.

Fueling the rage that lightly lingers in the air

as a thick black suffocating cloud of fog.

 

 

Where there is fog there is no vision

 

Author's Note

This is the darker of my writings. Comment as you wish.

Reviews

[Whispering Aspen]

This sounds like a Salvador Dali painting. It's a life lesson I have been trying to teach my children since the very first insult was cast on the playground to one of my own. Hatred is a beast that consumes and and destroys one from the inside out. Your descriptions are spot on for what happens to the soul when hate worms its way in. The finish was also well said. Hatred is blind as it is ignorant. I think this poem is very well done. I am curious as to whether or not it was inspired by a particular work of art or if perhaps the the other way around, or maybe it's just a poem? Thanks for sharing this piece.