Like a wound that never heals
the venom lingers inside
waiting for the moment to surface
and revive the hatred that has all but died
It festers and infects
until there is nothing left pure
it seeks and destroys all it can find
until nothing can endure
In darkness it was born
yet unflinching in the light
the pain it promises grows with every breath
until all has been made right...
Those who claim, or are convinced, they are pure are the first to betray, for in their blind conviction of pureness there is no room for inner conscience...
Only by realizing and accepting our imperfections, we can perfect ourselves.
waiting for the moment to surface
and revive the hatred that has all but died
It festers and infects
until there is nothing left pure
it seeks and destroys all it can find
until nothing can endure
In darkness it was born
yet unflinching in the light
the pain it promises grows with every breath
until all has been made right...
Those who claim, or are convinced, they are pure are the first to betray, for in their blind conviction of pureness there is no room for inner conscience...
Only by realizing and accepting our imperfections, we can perfect ourselves.
