I hate this night

Why do I hate so much?

When I used to be so full of love,

of hope, so innocent

like a budding rose.

Why do I hate so much,

when I know I got a lot to give,

anything at all.

I want to be rid of this sickness,

that has stricken me like a cancer

eating up my flesh.

I’m no better than a living dead,

devoid of life, there is nothing

not blood rushing but venom

and poison,

deadly as the night.

How I hate this night.

It has got nothing but nightmares

that offer no ransom

at all…

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