Freedom from Hate

He's still sitting there

Perched upon his throne

He's there, in my mind

The wrong he executed

Without a thought or care

That voice repeats inside

My shame I feel for pleading my cries

His face stern, void of emotion

In complete control of his lies

I think about what I was supposed to do

To hold in hand my income to retain

Should I have taken my arm

To slice through my veins

To hold his head as my illness pours over him

For I cannot, I have to believe

The importance his actions hold

To him and himself alone

He can only justify

To ruin a life so desperate and lost

To feel empowered to justify cost

A little man no outside purpose

So In karma I believe

That what shall happen has a reason

Each time this thought, cruel and intrusive

Does enter my mind, strength of will am I to find

Repeating, remembering this is the beginning

Not the middle nor the end

Embrace this slate wiped clean

He'll always be there

Sitting there, his throne and grin

But he sits soaked in my blood

Not from death but birth

He'll return to intrude, that being my mind

But muster my strength for belief I will find.