[Lord Drama]

"Evil has an address, it's in the heart of man."

From below his desk, the lives of many walk about
All different people, yet colored in shadows of doubt
To him, they are all the same, all humans with names
Because of this, he fails to grasp their individual pains

Had he known that, it might have changed what he didn’t care to see..
his hateful antics towards others, which for them was embarrassing
day to day, he made his pay, searching for clues and gossip
not on who’s the hottest person, but who’s the oddest;
the least modest, or a petite goddess, who pukes when she eats…
he would basically say anything he could to get the news of the week.
As long as people read, bought and noticed his weapon prints,
he remained successful,
forgetting to care if he would be heaven sent…

So why did he choose this path of hurting others?

Maybe it was some sort of backlash… some past act
Something to where he felt his life was being backstabbed..
Looking back to his adolescents, and how he was raised
It didn’t appear to be the blame for the weapons he made
He came from a good family who looked out for thy fellow neighbor
Who stuck by moral codes… who loved to help thy fellow stranger
at twelve, “We are only human” is what his mom once said
when he looked at her in question, watching her give a bum her bread..
He noticed with keen senses what had occurred in that instance…
why then was the act of good intention not how he handled future business?

He was young then, but even searching later in life
Several years past, at eighteen, still no hater in site
He attended school like other boys and came home for dinners
Would use “Mrs.” with a woman’s last name and other way for “Mr.”
Always making sure to be polite, noticing how others felt
So that if someone was in trouble he could be the one to help
He held friends close… went out of his way to impress the girls
And by twenty-three, graduated having respect for the world.

By twenty-four, he found a career to take him up higher
A huge magazine brand… starting entry level as a paper supplier
With no real world experience, he hoped his kindness would carry him
Only to discover it was the very thing that would burry him..
He had always thought of going into humanities work…
But the journalism major forced him to have to be a jerk
he didn’t find that out though, until years later, from under his boss
Who would yell out slow, “Get Me That Story At All Fucking Cost!”
the pressure got to him fast, subtracting what before made him proper
but stayed working, lashing back, head spinning like blades on a hilicopter
Being the nice guy he was, at work, just wouldn’t cut it
it turned him evil, attacking people, until he began to love it
Over time, the nice guy who he was from his ass kissing past
Was only seen by him in the dark hole of his half empty flask
The other part of him laughed, at the funny, sobbing, faces he captured
That plastered front covers of his magazines bringing him money and laughter

one night good screamed, viciously, from inside his soul, cold as ten degrees,
To stop the madness and come to the realization and control of the epiphany
sitting drunk and alone, viewing shame and feeling blame from the television
He heard his inner goodness for the first time in his brain and came to listen
he paid attention, growing aware of his cold hearted soul
until breaking down in tears, his first slow start of control
He knew heaven wouldn’t want him, but still hoped for redemption
praying god might revoke the prevention…
but there was so much to correct, he hoped there would be enough time
To right his wrongs before he no longer could see the sun shine.
Searching weeks, he found his collection, every evil attack
an sat at home rewriting the bad thoughts to try an bring the people back
their dignity, which he, so selfishly put to end for a price
But it was too hard, grabbing his heart, he soon faced a new start in his life
he knew there was no way of returning all the shame he caused
The pride of too many lives were lost, even if he blamed his boss..
his heart raced in panic, feeling the cold, smokey, chill down his back
until he grew still and relaxed...
With my hand on his shoulder, I slowly pulled his soul from his skin
letting him know, his time in my hell hole was about to begin….