Thrash

Not every man is destined to be wise,
nor fated to transcend his shallow state,
nor Love to rise resplendent in his eyes,
For all Humanity to celebrate.
Brutality in thought is toxic hate
Whose pantomime in mind gives evil wings.
Our consciousness is slate to illustrate
The savagery our inner violence brings.
This canvas is more fragile than we know,
And masterfully adept in Beauty's way.
To not transform one's spiritual skid row,
content instead to bathe in it's decay,
does honor those who teach the traitor's arts
And glorifies the vulturess in their hearts.