Filled with regrets and anger(by kishern manickam)

Each time,
The crystals chime,
Like dropping dimes,
And tasteless thymes,
A pin drop silence,
Feels like a defiance,
As ones  bitter heart,
Is not  sweeter than tart,
Borrowing forgiveness,
Is sorrowing the past,
The burning fires of pain,
Is learning the pyres of  vain,
The isles of tough chains 
Is the tiles of rough stains,
Regrets and hopes,
What is the difference,
Hopes washed away down the drain,
With rain,
Regrets tag along on your journey,
Gag like laughing demons,
What is the point,
If there is no coin,
The beast that is created,
Screams with tyranny,
Eager for blood,
And vengeance,
Regrets that tick each time,
Hits as hard as a wooden stick on the neck,
vengeance to murder,
With gurgles or chaos,
The inner fire emits,
So as sanity dies,
Salvation did not act,
To save the soul,
Maybe,
its for the best,
Or to burst with anger,
The beast walks out,
To feast and talk out,
Screaming with bitterness of avenging,
Dreaming with sweetness of revenging,
Calling upon the wrath of the evil,
Against the faith of the condemned,
Pleas of anger and revenge,
Are Fleas of Laughter,
Bristling with fury,
Are the crystals of jury,
Calming the beast to it's knees,
Yet it devours with rage,
pleading with fear from the culprit,
Yet it is murdered without hesitation,
Alas it still can bear no more insults,
Even after the death of the culprit,
Leaving the world with no amends,
Mending the revitalization of thee soul.