What rage stole from me
Was much more than meets the eyes.
Rage had nearly been my demise.
Through shadows casted and words whispered,
I couldn’t control the irrationality of the shade.
In a stupor I was, forever in the darkness.
Others may impact, yet we control how we react.
Though the task prove evermore difficult!
This beast is not placid.
For years, I tried and tried to console the beast within,
For I didn’t wish to lose my freedom of pen.
But now, I realize that rage isn’t permanent.
Nothing is permanent, no less do I think Heaven ends as well,
For this life on Earth is truly hell.
Misery is as misery does!
The mere idea we exist is splattered with suffering,
Oozing like an open wound.
We are born to suffer,
But we have a choice to make.
Do we make this delusional dream of God
More so a daydream or a nightmare?
Though many may not agree,
I will not suffer any longer.
I will rise up and break the shackles from my tormented soul,
And while Heaven even has an expiration date,
We can all reap that which we sow.
