Do you know how evil grows?
How it infects, how it flows?
I felt it in the Killing Fields,
leaking from some wound unhealed.
It rears a head, mean and spiteful,
morphing into something frightful.
Where are you at, you vile devil?
Seeking quiet anger in which to revel?
How spreads the likes of Hitler or Stalin?
Each quietly angry person, a pollen.
Slogging that darkness with each breath;
spreading evil like the Black Death.
I beg of thee, deny hatred billet.
Your rage is yours, the gods don’t will it.
Shout and curse, if you must,
but let it not become blood lust.
Micro-Writing 