Peace can be found in anger,
But only for a fleeting moment,
Before it is consumed by guilt.

We then become dependent on it,
The pain we feel,
Regardless of whether it was deserved.

The human moral compass,
Always such a hypocrite,
Twisting the mind so it always blames itself.

The burning of possessions,
Old and cherished,
Only reinforces the fact that we are alone.

But should we be forced to suffer
At the hands of the ignorant,
The jealous, the thieves?

But I still share the blame.
Not because of my actions,
But lack thereof.

Should I still be condemmed
For my refusal to act
Against everything that tears my life apart?

Regardless,
I still have these bruises,
And they were caused by you.