Insanity

I had imagined what would've happened,
if I had released my pain and suffering into the knife that I had,
and released my insanity on anyone that I met.

I had seen blood and dead bodies everywhere,
bodies of whom I had called friends,
whom I had called family,
whom I had called my loved ones.

I had seen their blood splattered on the walls,
painting the entire room crimson.
The floor is stained red from the blood pooling on the floor.
The knife dripping the liquid fear from its tip.

The air is overwhelming of the aroma of the deceased.
The life and limb of everyone is scattered on the ground.
Everything is soaked with the blood of the dead.
Both my clothes and theirs.

The thought is overwhelming that I am capable of these things.
I never think that this sort of imagination was possible to the human mind.
Now I realize how dark and unfair the world is to everyone alive.