A Cruel Mistress is Hate

I remember the fire that licked at your heels,

The taunts, the beatings, the pain,

A wall that reached out with open arms,

Breaking not only you

But your potential, your dreams

And everything that,

Until that point,

Held you up.

I can still see the prejudice,

The close-minded, narrow thoughts and beliefs,

Dripping down from their lifeless words

To form false stars in a poisoned night sky,

To place a veil of delusion across

Your beautiful eyes.

I can hear the laugh of the flickering flame

As it raced up your spine

Through every fiber of your being

To shred the little bit of life left in you.

It haunts my nightmares:

Watching that light fade from your beautiful eyes;

Seeing that fire take its place,

A fire that burns hope and leaves lies behind;

Realizing that you were no longer there.

There was only a shell left,

The charred exterior of a murdered soul.

Then the scars became visible

Not just the emotional ones,

The mental and physical ones.

Watching a beautiful mind unravel into nothing...

They just stood by watching

While I stood there waiting

Hoping

Praying for a spark of life to ignite,

To heal your dying soul,

To close up your wounds and fade your scars.

But my love was too late.

The flame had taken your mind prisoner,

Kept your heart under lock and key,

And burned your soul.

My words of sweet relief fell upon dead ears.

Another soul joined the ranks

Of those involuntarily drafted for hell.

And that same fire

Turned on those who had released it;

Such a cruel mistress is hate:

Always destroying

Breaking

Burning

Leaving nothing behind.