It imprisons. Your brain.
In an awful dungeon,
away from all,
from the echt you.
It tortures. Your dears.
The resentment
handcuffs, torments,
every bit of nerves.
It engulfs. Everything.
Sweet souvenirs,
the faith, the promises,
futile they become.
It kills. Every second.
Resentment is death,
a death you die,
until breathe ceases.
It burns. Into ashes.
Blooms of love,
pleasing pleasures,
everything dies.
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