The Rage

Open palms slapping the face. A weightless body being dragged across the tile. Pulling the scalp high and higher. A beast has been tortured for years. Rotting in his cell of a mind, his sentence has ran out of time. The rage is out, unleashing on a mother, as her screams echo A still boy stands aloof and paralyzed. No shakes, No tears Too young to defend but old enough to feel. The rage has blinded, fading everything else away. Except my memories, while I yawn but stay awake.