Winter/retniW

As passive as a winter, I could watch you die,
I extract relief from your wounds, I find happiness in your
suffering,
The hours I've spent looking for a motive for my coldness have been
bankrupt, therefore you bare the brunt of my anger,
Like a razor sharp breeze, I'll gleefully tear through your
flesh,
Like a machine, I feel no passion or remorse,
My hate is automated, I am an autonotome to my seething odium,
The pretty white snow cannot stifle my tenacity, it cannot appeal to
any better nature, I have none,
Christmas celebrates the birth of a lord, the resurrection of a civil
punishment,
I'll nail tradition to a cross, for I believe in my own God, thus I
appeal to him for direction, yet
Like the harsh winter, the blizzard of my psychosis deafens an
answer,
So I drive on, I'll laugh at your funeral, spit on your Ashes,
I have been consumed with detestation, for no reason?

Perhaps, but the cold proves my solace companion,
If I failed to make myself noticed through humble pleasantry, polite
handshakes and smiles,
I'll make you listen to the sound of your own bone, tremble at the
sight of your own innards,
Like a winter, I am passive in my pathological state, I never wished
pain upon anyone,
But those like me, who remember toys under trees, soon remember rocks
under rubble,
You fuel us with your insolence, you have bullied us into your own
oblivion,

We don't want your words, we want your eyes.