“I have love in me
the likes of which you can scarcely imagine
and rage the likes
of which you would not believe.”
– Mary Shelley
There is, too oft’, a war within my mind;
‘Twixt Good and Evil; the Dark Side and Light;
Intellect struggling to resist blind
Ignorance as shadows obscure the right.
Like poison unchecked, discontent infects
My soul, arousing inhumanity;
A monster existing disaffected
Toward empathy, risking insanity.
Why must I continue this conflict ‘gainst
Self, denied solace in another’s hand;
Some being like me to re-kindle sense,
Restore hope, and grant ease from life’s demands?
Solitude only nourishes
my rage,
And
bitterness grows as love dies away.