Puddle

I don't like feeling hate
And I will not allow another
That power over me

To cause me to feel such hatred
At least, for a prolonged amount
Of time

Yet, for this moment, I feel
Hatred
A rottenness in my belly

Forty-five
I steel against his lies
And the division he spews

His life motto is
If you bellow a lie often enough
People will believe it

He squawks and shrills
Refusing accountability
Exposing his own guilt

I wonder if he feels
At all
I wonder if his constant chaos is an effort
To feel

I doubt the man has an inkling of humility
In his soul
This week he tweeted,
"...I have already MADE America Great Again..."

I thought of Proverbs, Chapter 16
"Pride goeth before destruction"
I thought of Lucifer's "I wills"
In Isaiah, Chapter 14

Lucifer fell
Yet he retained great power
Trump just needs to fall

And cease

I pray Trump's pride is his demise
But instead of retaining any power
May he melt away

Without recognition