I find the flavour of life is lost.
I find the shadows that once gave me peace now stare in hungry accusation.
I have left the holy place of darkness and abide now in the arena of unfamiliar charity.
I find that I am bereft of the anger that gave my hatred meaning.
I find that the rage that defined my presence, now affirms it’s absence.
I find that the purpose of love is hate.
I find that without my hate my love is foolish, for I love hate.
I find myself going to the hangman’s noose.
For in relieving myself of hatred, I relieved myself of life.