I was once a being of purity,

Sacrificing myself for the good of others.

I never thought of myself,

Only everyone else.

I believed I was incapable of evil,

Of malicious acts,

Of wanton destruction,

And of the desire to ensue pain.

I'd forgive all,

Even those people who had wronged me.

But I never stopped to think why I would.

I was once a being of purity,

But all that changed.

A single betrayal made me question 'why'.

Why did I choose to help others and not myself?

It was because I was in pain.

My soul ached.

I chose to help others to forget my pain.

And after I found my reason the pain had gone.

But then I was betrayed.

My reason for existence was stolen from me,

Stolen because of the ignorance of others.

They very ones I had tried to help turned on me.

They pierced my very soul with a dagger through the back.

It nearly killed me.

I survived, but the pain returned.

Anger and hatred built up in me.

Once a being of purity,

I knew that the only thing that fueled me now was rage.

I had nothing else but that.

I tried to cling on to my old self.

I struggled to do good,

But now I was no longer naïve.

I knew I was capable of heinous acts.

The darkest of evils is born from the brightest lights.

It frightens me now that I have this dark hole inside me.

A festering black tar of inequities.

And I am alone to deal with it.

Those whom I offered aid offer none in return.

I hate them.

Yet I love them.

I struggle to show compassion.

In front of them I must now wear a mask.

But alone in the shadows I must confront my true self.

I was once a being of purity,

But now I am also a tool of my own hatred.