He carries it every day, hidden somewhere
out of the reach of others.
He wraps it in folds of malice
and keeps the secret only to his heart.
He meets so many faces every day.
Many of them he dislikes, they make him repulsive.
During such meetings, many a times
he feels the cold of its blade against his skin.
The ruthless blade cuts through his conscience, his sanity.
During such times he often wishes that he could throw it away,
throw it into the seas, or throw it off the edge of the earth where civilization begins,
or dodge into in the dark of a night.
During such times, it sings to him.
Not a song one would like.
It rolls its tongue and pours into his ears,
its venom so corrosive and noxious.
It drives him mad sometimes,
whispers of a dark mind,
casting a grim shadow over his soul.
Its always a battle of two sides.
a tossing of fate, a fight of will,
to restrain or slither.
It ruins him until deep down he becomes a relic.
It smothers him in sarcasm until
all sober voices are shut down.
The dagger immerges then, like a hawk
preying upon its victim, conniving in grave silence.
Momentarily it lashes out and strikes its deadly blow --
he stabs and stabs until there is no more.
Until there is no more unspoken, no more undone.
The dagger then rests until...
Author's Note:
According to psychologists, rage is
often used to denote hostile/affective/reactive aggression.
Rage stems from anger, in that, in certain cases where there is anger present, the ultimate push will create an outrageous occurrence.
We must try to control our anger and in turn our rage, thus avoid using our metaphoric (or actual) daggers.
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Behind Drawn Curtains - A caravan of poems
ПоэзияThe human mind has so many subconscious thoughts that seldom come to our consciousness. Yet at times of desperation we sometimes meet our subconscious selves. There are so many unspoken stories, words slipping off the tongue and falling into abyss. ...
