Imagination

Before you read this, I would like to inform you I haven't written anything personally for a while, and jumping straight into rhyme may of been a bad idea, but eh, you can judge for yourselves. I'll try and post more soon. Thanks
Syn

Nothing is more harmful than imagination.
Only with imagination can hate grow.
Nothing can bring more likeliness to condemnation.
Take it from me, a psychopath would know.

Within your home, your shell, your security.
You explore the depths of what you believe is wrong.
Only to find something that is above maturity.
You've found something, and it shouldn't belong.

A message of hate, of lies, of deceit, or pain.
A message more deadly than any gun or blade.
But there's only one person around to blame.
But that old person, is now hiding in the shade.

A monster has grown. Hideous, mutated, deformed.
It's mind more dysfunctional than anything real.
The old you, non-existent, so should be mourned.
But no tears, only hate is what you feel.

Let's put together the pieces of this puzzle, and show the world who has won.
Truth? Lies? Who cares? Let's face it. The winner is the gun.
You can be a saint or a sinner. In this world, it doth not matter.
But only one person sees this, as mad as a hatter.
Truth doesn't exist. Lies are a sham.
For only one truth exists. The opinion of man.
Can we all assume we know the difference between heaven and hell?
A story for another time perhaps. Oh well.