Spite

Your spite…
Has fed me up
With nothing but scars in life

Your existence…
Is not an instance of angels.
It brings me anger
Made me stumbled
Get me troubled

You, yourself
were not born to be pleased.
I’ll wait for the day I get released
And my fury will be unleashed
Then you will be minced
And thrown into the pool of leeches.

Anyone can get crazy at all time
Such a fine dine to dice with, wasn’t it?

20130410-115658 AM.jpg

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s