I Love to Hate You.
I come near you because I despise you. I want to see you fall. Or Fall from a cliff or a peak standing tall. Or bury you right away. I'll take you in the marshes or the quicksand far away, for I despise you more than anything is what I wanted to say.
I stay near you, ignoring altogether. Still I notice you every moment, living the life with me together. I hate you, loath you and I gloat about it every second; for without it my life would reduce to naught. It's the attraction that repels me. Makes me want you more and crucify you in some sort. Should I come near you? Murder and leave you sore. While killing could be an objective, but cannot fathom detaching for long or more. It'd be pleasing to see you fall and then bathe in burnt ashes. See you rip apart post feisty bull clashes.
I am the thread who wants to become a kite, but if i became it seeing you dead ..my craving will not suffice. I dream of your death day in and out, pleases me like a symphony; Oh I wish your blood was spilt all around. That'll quench my thirst, make me happy once again; but then what will I do if not hate you tomorrow again.
Confused soul, always in transition should I kill you or not, the thought needs rethinking; is what I think again. Happiness of uncharted depth on seeing your death, is something from I won't refrain. End the story, please just die, release me from this maze. Your kiss with a pointy knife, a gift of abysmal bliss; will relieve me from this craze.
[Note: A work of fiction. Not molded by my thoughts]
