The problem is the hatred

The problem is the hatred

 

 

The problem is the hatred

Hatred…

like a seed dying hard

in spite of being cut and cut.

 

When all my bones are powerlessly weakened,

when my chest is sliced,

when I am desperate,

when I want to become desperate,

 

All things seem to be solved,

But the hatred only is not possible,

Absolutely not…

insofar as the object for it survives.

 

The hatred

is like the source of the wicked challenge.

The hatred

is like the moths eating the liveliness.

The hatred

is like the scream to madness.