Hatred

The stirrings are slow and sporadic

yet sustained

simmering just beneath the surface

a festering blister under smooth alabaster skin

centuries of civilization

can make hatred appear moribund

as it lies dormant and prone

on the edge of consciousness

then all it takes is a slight nudge

a graze gone wrong

making it come alive with gusto

taking possession like the devil himself

manifesting itself out there in the open

inhaling deeply

not the aromatic, heady scents of compassion

but the dank, putrid smell of animosity

hatred unclad and raw, in bare-bones

scorches in its intensity

frightens in its ugliness

and corrodes completely!