There is Comfort in the Pain of Self-Destruction

Sun, 11/02/2014 - 21:52 -- hburke

I've ripped apart the hearts of many,
unworthy of my time.
My destruction not survived by any.
None as honest as my rhyme. 

I am a pronounced wound,
in a constant state of pain.
The spirit of many have I ruined.
Yet I have much to gain.

You can hear it in the silence.
Guiding all those misplaced.
Our history breathes violence.
All this time has been a waste.

I do not fear the solitude,
that accompanies these thoughts.
Since those words you spewed,
The end was never sought.

I am all encompassing,
no transparency subsists.
Morals can be troubling,
But sometimes worth the risk.

I am self-destruction.
An unsolvable mystery.
Swallowed by seduction.
Its a constant state of misery.

I'm your worst nightmare.
Please get out while you can.
Truth hurts, by that I swear.
This really was never my plan.


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