A Poem About Being Evil

Evil spelled backwards tells me to live.

Although love is dangerous, impatient, and most of the time unkind.

I find myself lost in it’s endless labyrinth.

Because ignorance is bliss, and I am on cloud nine for the time being.

Seduced by the way love makes me live, and how it sometimes makes me evil.

But they’re the same thing, aren’t they?

 

Apathy, that word is the real evil.

The lack of any feeling, because without our emotions we’d all be robots.

In some ways we are those mechanical demons.

Believing lies of others, but no longer believing in ourselves,

just so we can feel appreciated for a few hours.

And eventually we end up soaking our pillow with salt water.

 

The dreams and fairytales morph into new life.

You start to feel again, and it really fucking hurts.

But you can see reality, in all it’s harsh clearness,

and start to notice the real evil.

It wasn’t you, but it could be if you follow.

Following the yellow brick road to the path of pain and regret.

To use others for you own evil.

 

I never thought about the way someone could hurt me, and not even know.

To stab me repeatedly, and not even leave a wound.

This, my friends, is a warning.

Don’t be dangerous, because most people can’t refuse the temptation of evil.

I believe there are two different evils.

One can make you live, and the other can kill.

Which one will you choose?

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