Self destruction.
He was a loathsome man.
Anger was his only bread,conflict was as wine.
He was a broken man,though it was plain to see, he dared not admit it.
He was a lost man,roaming over the horizon only to find more of the same.
He was a sane man, though sanity at times seemed to waver.
His scars visible yet invisible.
Once he was kind, though belligerence took its place.
Once was loving, though hate replaced it,and took up a long dwelling.
Bitterness and bereavement drove him on, in spite of pain or the wounds inflicted.
With single minded devotion he continued.
All bridges behind him lit ablaze and at times he would bask in the fires bright glow.
Finally he stopped and saw what he had done.
Nothing of meaning except damnation at his own hands.
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