Sour Grapes

A strange thing it is
That comes from bitter thoughts
Such sour grapes held
Do nothing but rot
If in your heart
You are hide bound
Lost in petty anger
To be found
Then never shale your soul be freed from strife
Instead
Frustrated and confound
When you
With disagreeable airs yourself surround
Snarl like a beast untrained
Bitterly cursing the falling rain
As if
With
Your hate alone
Its life giving goodness to atone
Could its downward force repel
As the angels doth the demons from hell
You
However
Seem to neither see nor understand
The gift the rain gives without demand
And so side
With the devil you hate
Viciously Demanding
God close his gate
All for the fear of what you don't understand
And the reasoning of which you refuse to comprehend
You yourself do defeat with such a battle engaged
With an enemy whom you couldn't possibly beat
That in the end
When you die
From thirst unquenched
Wondering why
The rain shale weep its sorrows song
The life giving tears
Which do to your fears
Was your ultimate down fall
For every action a reaction cause
For every wrong a right
For every lie a truth
In order for fate to find a way to pacify the human mind