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This is the first writing I ever let the words just flow onto the paper without thought. Now don't worry I'm not some psyco or something. My girlfriend had just broken up with me when this happened but don't worry I have found out that she's just a dumb hoe biggrin .

I am angry. I can feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins. Cold Chills cover my body as if I am having tremors. I am in complete control of it all. So much power courses through my veins. It’s as if my body was a machine and my blood is battery acid. Anger doesn't even begin to describe my feelings. Rage! War! Anarchy! These are the words flashing through my mind. Fight! Fight! Fight!! Kill!!! It's as if these words are being shoved into my mind. Hate courses through my veins. Revenge! Revenge? I ask myself revenge upon who? The one who bestows the hate is myself. The one who supplies the hate is myself. Maybe destruction of and external force is not necessary. Maybe the enemy is within me...Maybe destruction of an internal force is necessary...Even as I think these things they are all lies. I feel these feelings with the greatest of capacity and beyond yet my willpower slightly prevails. I am almost over my ledge but not quite. I am in complete control. You say this is but the words of a madman. I can agree full heartedly. Only a madman would let something as menial as morals get in the way of happiness. Yet I do just that. Being crazy is not not being aware of your surroundings. It's being aware of your surroundings and ignoring them. One who pushes away life if it gets in the say? Someone who finds happiness no matter what. No I guess then I am not crazy. I do not overstep my mortal fears and boundaries and for that I am not crazy. But at this point being crazy would be a release. It would be a blessing. As well as death itself. For Hellfire can be not worse than this fire within that burns and eats away at my heart and soul. I feel as if icy hands have ripped the will to live from my very soul then tore out my heart as a final fleeting gesture. If Death be cruel show me its cruelty. For it cannot be as bad as the pain and suffering which is life. Death where is they sting? Where is thy release of evil? Nay I sense no evil when death turns its head to face me. Nay I sense redemption and not Hellfire. I sense a release from life not a never ending coil of death but an end to the endless Mobius strip which is life itself. Even as I think these things I find lies, lies, and more lies. These are but fleeting thoughts not feelings not emotions. I have no more emotions. I have no more will to live or die. I simply do not care. Not existing seems peaceful. Merely blinking out of existence with no heart no soul no mind ever exiting past, present, or future. How many lives have I touched with a pure heart? How many lives have I crushed with cruelty? In the end does it really balance out? If I send one person to hell can I really make up for it by sending two to heaven? Isn't a sin always a sin? Whether forgiven or not a sin has still taken place and nothing can change that. Ohhhh well. I really don't have the energy or patience to say much more. This is my life. These are my feelings. These are my emotions. For Love fills me but I know it shall never be. You see you don't love a person for only the good in them. You love them for the good, the bad, and the ugly. It shouldn't matter what they do or who they are at the moment for it is still the same person. You love a person for who they are. Who a person is not just the good kindhearted person you see at first but every little flaw and wrong doing as well. You don't Love merely for the fact that they are good but love them for that they are bad as well.

I agree. It is very interesting. I love the beginning. You have some wonder anger imagery here. I especially like these lines:
"It’s as if my body was a machine and my blood is battery acid."
and "Rage! War! Anarchy!"
I don't know about the 'thy's when you start talking about 'Hell fire' though. Unless you stick to archaic language choice through out, you might want to look at changing them.
And... well, I hate to be a wet blanket about it... but the love thing at the end just kinda peters out. The beginning starts so strongly, that if you're going to end in love, you probably want that love imagery to be just as powerful.
(I'd love to see the beginning turned into a poem all of it's own! I have such a hard time writing about anger because, well, I get pissed off and can't write anymore! ;D )