Feelings On Paper

Anger

Somewhere in the mist laid a figure that watched over everything happening. Clutching at the walls surrounding the environment. Every day it stood as a sunshade and every night as a beacon of light. The energy radiating off of it was that of a protector but not of a guardian angel, no, it was menacing toward danger and shielding from discomfort, but never kind to evil.

It bore its fangs at monsters and dove its weapons at any threatening actions coming toward us. Scythes of death slashing through venom and accepting eyes to visitors. The figure did not make itself known, ever, not to anyone else. But I saw it standing at every corner when I sought it out. It was just that, a black figure with white eyes that changed red in anger, fangs that never showed in a smile, scythes bore at danger, and a voice deep enough to be misunderstood. It stood tall in the darkness yet lurked at daybreak, stalking and waiting.

In the fogginess between life and the unseen, it waited for prey. Not a hero nor an evil but driven by darkness to hunt. It would sometimes end up cradled asleep for long periods of time, but its ears were as awake as any other, ready to attack. Sometimes it asked for permission, mumbling if it could attack, unsure if it was the right time as time ticked away... most of the time I let it free and do its punishment. Other times I took reign over the figure and the attacks would be subtle yet efficient, quiet cuts rather than loud slashes.

It grew tired of games but continued playing nonetheless as it knew it worked for me, not just with me. At times the figure would disappear in the fog, the mist being overwhelming and unforgiving to it. I heard it cry out to be let through, yet at times I did not, for I knew it was not needed. The shadow grew to accept my needs and my wants, knowing its time was nearing, for anger and passion was one and the same, but death and life were nearly two very different beginnings.

So the figure died and became one with the rest, although it still cries out to be freed within the depths of my fog.