Let’s be dramatic: I am furious.
Torn apart by those who should care –
Either by love or indifference –
It’s getting too much to bear!

I expect to love who do love;
But I end up with those who hurt –
So pain is another form of love:
Does it prove how much love’s truly worth?

I want to scream, I wish to escape,
I want to be rid of this colossal dead weight,
That oppresses my should-be, maybe soul,
While time puts it in an unending wait.

For what reason? Leading to what end?
What use the lover? Where is the friend?
How am I alone in such bitter cold?
Why must suffering gain this much hold?

Why cannot people be a bit kinder?
Why cannot love be a bit blinder?
If I do not release this anger soon,
I’ll end up crying, dramatically dying.

But do not deign to offer me hope;
Because that’s the biggest liar here;
He shelters such expectation,
Which commands me to kneel and adhere.

I have seen differently,
I have felt the opposite,
Disease surrounds his being,
Corroding all around bit by bit.

Metaphysical thought can go take a leap!
I am sick of knowing how Karma multiplies!
And though I squeeze hope by the throat,
He thrives and my anger wantonly survives.