Damaging Calm
Swirling, chaotic, unending, torturous, darkness. Black as the deepest black, he sits,
wondering how could she nurture his dark side. This blinding rage that fills his soul, is
so foreign, he’s usually so calm, and collected. But she is starting to damage his calm.
This music isn’t helping, nothing does. It just builds and builds the temperament slowly
getting worse and worse. This poison is killing him, if he doesn’t release it, he will
explode. But where does he turn to let loose the torrential hatred? How can he loose
this torment on others and live with himself. To be or not to be violent, THAT is the
question. Does he continue to proliferate, or does he release upon the masses. Which
is the lesser of two evils, to die from his own abomination, or does he smite those who
cause this?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
