Our human capacity for understanding evil as a subject is <br />but excuse for that which lies within us. <br /> <br />============================================== <br />And my imagination seemed to transpire <br />the authenticity only lent credibility <br />to your vile nature. A plague that descends <br />though it were a death-mist. Yet in <br />even the darkest places- I had not imagined <br />that death could tease the olfactory- so sweet <br /> <br />'Is this how you imagined you would end up? ' <br />Your answer, ever so eloquent and malevolent: <br />'This is merely a means to an end' <br /> <br />Your arrogance, a bitter gall that clung <br />to the back of my esophagus- in fear <br />It is though you enjoyed this, a faded <br />existence riddled with your degradation <br />Still so, your presence clung to my being <br />and I feared that your melancholy seeping in <br /> <br />'What could you possibly think you could do? ' <br />A role-reversal to which I rebut- yet your smirk <br />knows that it's inevitable. <br /> <br /> <br />And the peace crumbled from my heart <br />as the anger drummed six hundred threescore and six <br />I despised your existence. I tasteless brew that <br />quenched only the hellfire before it was bellowed <br />and surrounded us. The smog now heavy obscuring <br />the air and obscured you from view. I breathed. <br /> <br />And I smirked a malevolent picture. <br />My conversations with the evil that was myself- <br />embodied and realised.<br /><br />Marcellino Carlo<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/conversations-with-the-devil/
