uncontrollable

No more, the master of myself, i have become engulfed by something dark and sinister and playful; this energy  inside which wills me to spite and hurt, though i mourn for a better time. Enraged by what depravity lies within those who love, who rip out my heart and make me feel hollow and empty and sick.
Im scared of myself, what lies beneath me, for my anger and hatred build. Only through words can i be brought down, and only through music can i resurrect myself from hell.
The sorrow laid strewn across my brow reminds me that bitterness and sulphur are all i know, the foul stench lifting me higher to a state of passionate vile. The Gaul that hides is building with every word you speak, and softly and slowly it seeps out into the ether to fill the void between loves, and hurts all who hear it.
This is my winter of discontent. An everlasting wasteland of forgotten emotions with no means of renewal. No remorse. No sanctuary can be found here. Merely the hope that it may end.
But the rational is entombed by irrationality, and soon, aggressively and ferociously i will end all of my suffering with swift justice in my mind. The last sound you may hear may be the last sound i make, for if the deed is done, relief will take my life.

I turn around. You are gone from view. I still hear you but it dims and i soon return to the shell i was. The beasts are tame again, and i am soaked in sorrow for the thoughts.
Few will ever know true horror: to look ones self in the mirror and see nothing but a violent criminal in waiting... i consider myself one of the lucky few to have been presented that opportunity by your hand.