A place of rest, a place of hope,
The opposite I find in you; my anger you provoke.
I should find peace whenever we meet, speak, at least.
The mix-up of emotions, you are my heart’s disease.
A commute to the roost,
A nest to lay my head and rest,
Instead, anger prevails,
Your presence I begin to detest.
A spiteful seed of emotion,
Grown through the thorniest of paths,
How can something so vile live in something so beautiful,
I pray to God it doesn’t last.