Hate is a coiling gust of air seeking it's way out
Apathy sags,
murky and cold
in complacent instinct.
While hate can be tofu to a child expecting sweets,
apathy is nothing but the silent flickering of a neon vacancy sign.
Hate is bottled
yet bursting.
Apathy is free,
but sedentary.
Hate is muscular
it shouts and threatens
while the other beckons,
just to push you away.
One: lava fit into a mold.
Two: so hot it becomes cold.
Hate is the fire
and apathy the barren field of ash
from which no phoenix shall rise.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 1:22 PM UTC
Hate is a coiling gust of air seeking it's way out
Apathy sags,
murky and cold
in complacent instinct.
While hate can be tofu to a child expecting sweets,
apathy is nothing but the silent flickering of a neon vacancy sign.
Hate is bottled
yet bursting.
Apathy is free,
but sedentary.
Hate is muscular
it shouts and threatens
while the other beckons,
just to push you away.
One: lava fit into a mold.
Two: so hot it becomes cold.
Hate is the fire
and apathy the barren field of ash
from which no phoenix shall rise.
