My hand is stained.

I see it no matter,
I feel it regardless.

The hatred runs deep,
the violence boils beneath.

In a mask for the mass,
humour was the course.

In a platter for the rest,
a distortion was forced.

Depravity a mistake,
Society a joke,
Pain a fortune.

You've seen nothing here,
You've heard nothing.

Turn around,
away from me,
so I can be free.

"Nothing has been, Nothing is to be."

Blood dripping down my eyes,
yet another soul I spurned.

Another step you took,
away from me,
and another,
and another,
I hear you loud and clear,
I get you more than any other.

I've embraced you a million times in my mind,
this,
is you embracing me.