It rests inside all men.
Active, or dormant.
It has the power to cripple the mind and body.
It weighs heavy in the hearts of many.

When it is active,
Nothing outside of the man himself,
Can remedy the disease.
No physical action a man makes,
Can make it fade away.

Still many are darkly inspired to take action,
Impulsive or calculated,
Malice stained all the same.

But these actions do not provide relief.
In the moment,
A man may feel free of his symptoms,
But they will boomerang back.

A clear,
But often unacknowledged sign,
That there is no good place for this sickness in our world.
And the only cure,
Is to convert it into something else.




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