Tormented Poem by James L. A. Huetson

Yesterday a man was ordered
To be set free from his tortured
Brain. Was it a mishap or
Could he no longer fight the war?

I wanted to take time
To make this poem rhyme,
But torture doesn’t lend,
It’s self to that end.

It begins with a hate
That makes us relate
To murder and chaos
Making evil the boss.

Kill every living thing
Then heroically sing
About the destruction
Of every good function.

If a woman from an order fault
Turn her into a pillar of salt.
If a man shows a little courage then
Throw him into the lion’s den.

Nothing ever
Gets better.
Demons never hit bottom
You just know you’ve got’em.

The preachers all yell
That you’re going to hell.
You’ve decided they’re right
So you give up the fight.

When you cross over the shore
And find that what you’re looking for
You’ve found out too late
God gives love, not hate.

You have ended your life
Full of inner strife
A most selfish act
That you cannot take back.