That moment when something snapped into two,
Something my conscience could not easily undo,
I sensed a turmoil in me just waiting to explode.
Destruction of self was what I could forebode.
Tumbling to the nether side like a pack of cards,
My tenuous patience flubbed to bits and shards.
The barrage of stones flung at the mind's mirror
Reflected, in its broken pieces, unfettered temper
I was the throne to the vile trident and the horns
As he smirked at his victim in the prison of thorns,
Forcing me to do what I hate, loath and detest,
What pushes me down to the nadir from the crest.
Fatefully I freed the monsters from their cage
In an outburst, the monsters - anger and rage.
Note: I started this poem when I was really very angry. Anger makes me lose all my senses and I'm sure it does similar things to everyone. Somehow I could not finish it back then but now it's done.
Something my conscience could not easily undo,
I sensed a turmoil in me just waiting to explode.
Destruction of self was what I could forebode.
Tumbling to the nether side like a pack of cards,
My tenuous patience flubbed to bits and shards.
The barrage of stones flung at the mind's mirror
Reflected, in its broken pieces, unfettered temper
I was the throne to the vile trident and the horns
As he smirked at his victim in the prison of thorns,
Forcing me to do what I hate, loath and detest,
What pushes me down to the nadir from the crest.
Fatefully I freed the monsters from their cage
In an outburst, the monsters - anger and rage.
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