Storm of Hate

Shouting rage
The towering storm looms
Oppression at its blackest
The thunder distant booms

Inverted hate
Hanging over my bed
The demon cackles
Filling everyone with dread

A writhing blackness
The darkest of my hate
The void of my anger
The voice of my fate

No friendly manner
No casual grace
Come the eventual mourning
The wrekage of my face

Gloom over my doorstep
Clouds over my head
The rainstorm draws closer
But it will find me dead