they sat there in utter silence
permitting each earnest gaze
to unleash their imagination.
it whispered softly to their madness
pleading with it to unleash
merciless power on the psyche.
it might have, but they still sat.
quietly, staring in distrust back
and forth amongst themselves.
each glance met with an equal
unsettling momentary peer of hatred
and blood turned to fiery ice.
anger overwhelmed its host
burst into reality with a scream
that made all other passions vanish.
standing sternly now, a man-puppet
grasped something deadly, sharp,
and plunged forth with wrath.
he fell in the room of mirrors.
hardly alive, defeated by himself.
the needle deep within his arm.