ANGER

How could thee

Scribble thy wit with profound fury?

Did thee answered the sweet call of madness

In the wilderness of the night

When the haughty moon

Shy in the clouds -----

The heart waltz in vain

And sing with the lullabies

Of the sobered raven

And thee’s crimson blood

Boiling---

Pops in thy pen.
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.....anger is like a rushing water with a strong current. It looks for outlets---for holes to pass through, but if it finds none, it fills up and floods --- drowning you.