There’s just something about rage,
Furious and focused,
Real yet fleeting,
Gaze into an eye of anger,
So separate from the other,
Driven back,
Cold yet unsure,
Direction given,
Stern and overcast with doubt,
Wanting to be heard,
Not out of need,
Out of desire,
Pure power lust,
Looking back now it’s noticed,
Stuttering vocal inflections,
Demands scribbled in the air,
And a look of distaste,
Knowing it’s not at all...
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