Cosmic Sheep Writes

My blog centred around my 3 main interests: gaming analysis, food and poetry.

Hate is a body of water

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Hate is a body of water which quells

Hate is a body of water which swells

Hate is a body of water which dwells within cells

Yes, hate is a body of water.

It writhes in the mind, wanes all to unkind

It floods of their eyes, it fashions the guise

Wear the smile – their song, their truth, their cemented guise

For, hate is a body of water.

It constructs their walls – floods now the halls

Stifles the calls and softens their falls

For hate is a body of water.

For hate is a body of water.

It dries of the flowers – wanes of the hours.

Decries their love – no solace above.

For hate is a body of water.

It speaks with a tongue with scorn in its prose

Hate is a body of water which flows.

Impassable, inscrutable

The sole thing that proves indestructible

All shall be culled, and all shall be pulled

Toward the current of their rue

Beneath the surface of the baneful blue

Hate is a body of water.

Yes, hate is a body of water.

It drowns of the men, so stoic are they

Grants them mere misery, when once they were gay

Hate is a body of water.

Hate is a body of water which flows, impassable, immovable

No bounds it knows

Soothe it, move it

Fall for the allure of its prose

For of you, in body, in mind, it already knows

Yes, hate is a body of water.

O, hate is a body of water.

There once was a man who faced the flood

He waded waist high toward the depths of the mud

A bucket in hand, a scythe in the other

Lost in name, ‘cept to his brother.

So to him it goes, now one in the same

Paired they are

For hate, O hate is a body of water.

Unable to rise from his infernal mire

So in flesh he walks toward his funeral pyre

What use is a will when broken and bruised

What use is the soul when beaten – abused?

The dam you forge – shall its will only falter?

You may hold the tide – but of its movement not alter

It imbues all from kin to another

Hate, O hate is a body of water.

Hate, O hate is a body of water.

It’ll take of your son, it’ll take of your daughter.

With the will of hate It’ll wash them to slaughter

Yes, hate, O hate, is a body of water.

May the current evade?

Or is their fate now made?

For hate is a body of water which flows

Hate is a body of water which follows.

And as it disperses, it curses, now laughing at you.

As white wanes to the solemn, unbendable blue.

A reflection forgotten – a soul misbegotten, as desire is now like the figure that floats – bloodied and rotting.

For hate wanes all joy to chores to the brittle bones – through flesh it gnaws.

Its depths which stifle the screams a-suffered

The thoughts of rue, through blue, the hue, those always remain. A thimble is filled with the oncoming rain.

A modicum of love is erased too – with pain.

And pity the man who hides of this shame.

Pity the man who hides of this shame

Boorish, brash, alone in life

Architect of suffering, isolated in strife

Hate, O hate is a body of water

Yes, hate is a body of water.

Yet it was neither love nor anger which eroded the man

Though neither was evident as I followed his plan.

With footsteps in the sand that lead to the shore

With ashen eyed conviction there was nary a detour

Toward it he wades with revulsion in heart the current ebbs forth – returns to its start.

How cold must it feel when knee high in the flood?

Have I missed something? Is the flaw so blatant? Have I misunderstood?

Is it the maw that flows from father to son?

Hate, O hate is the cane which rends the heart dumb.

Akin to him I awaken in shivers, what is it that laps?

The mind, it staves off the waves, though they shall never retract, nay, rather, they enact the poison – the lesion which forms.

From father to son – he who is bound by blood inherits the scorn.

And as my child envisioned – not yet born

Shall he too be eroded? shall he too be worn?

It is not a reality that I could ever face, is the deed of a generous soul to vanish without trace?

I wish not to imbue another with thy tide and so to the flow of thy hate – I shall always abide.

Lest no birthed son be cursed to the waters, the waters, the waters that slaughter

For hate inherits my unspoken prose

It is the devil lurking ‘tween the silent rows

And though above the surface I shall drown with a smile 

Know that in these eyes dwells only denial.

There is null to inherit ‘cept my derelict throne and the halls of thine solace which wind through this dome.

Behind each door a current swells, ‘fore it there ties a tongue that refuses to tell.

Those servants of my mind most dour, are the blockades to joy, o joy, the unobtainable power. I am Icarus – I wane with the hour 

Even as it looms high – this tower, with stone of midnight – fuelled by zealotry’s delight.

Inside is a soul of vacuum forlorn, praying, all shall be just ‘alright’. 

Let me fall through the rapids now bruised and broken. I was too weary ensuring no grumble was spoken, silence shall befall me eternally you have my word, O can’t you see?

That in the flow of hate that lurks, that waits there the silent shall pitch his stake. This is my truth – for I have far better lies I am still yet to make.

Hate disperses, through verses, always flowing, forever flowing, flowing, flowing on out.

Dispersing and washing anew

Omnipotent, eternal, infernal in will

Omnipotent, eternal, infernal in will.

Shattered reflections, slither silently softly freed of detection

In those waters below me I see no future for you

My child, unborn, lest you not drown in my rue.

Our hate is flowing, flowing, flowing. On. Out. 

Flowing, O flowing, flowing. On. Out.

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