I Hate You With A Passion Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I despise you
With a passion that
I crave for more.
That looms inside of me,
Down to my very core.
We are all trapped,
And weaved intricately
By on fate alone
That scathes the hills
And leaves the brooks
Unscathed -
I hate you over the Sunsets
That I stare at you,
And forget about the Sun.
I hate you like the Winter,
And how gossamer the
Snowflakes land on your skin.
I hate you like the Autumn garage
That you are - you deprive me
Of the autumn bloom.
Nothing will bloom in you.
You are a futile land,
A land of erred misfortune.
Your black dress
Will be under duress
And will be tarnished with
Pools of sweat and dust
Suspended in time.
I hate you with the passion,
The slithering of the snake -
With dissonant hisses
Undulating - forked tongue
Poking in and out of lips,
Two, sharp and sepulchral fangs
Protruding like unsheathed
Swords from boorish scabbards.
I hate you with the passion,
With the intoxication of
A drunken man.
I hate you with a passion,
That I crave for more
Than just hate alone.
I crave your body,
Your face, your soul
Not for me to love.
But for me to hate adroitly.