Voyage (NaPoWriMo 2022 #27)

And the anger rises up,
and I let the fire
wash over me
if only
for a
moment.
Embracing
the visual visage
of rage,
the rush of discontentment
that banishes
the blasted listlessness.
The flash fire of fury
gone as a thunderstorm to the soul,
and a more cathartic
more calm
sense
take its place.

I am a beach
and will not resist
the tides of emotion,
for only
inhumanity
lays in such empty places.

At least it serves enough
as a sea of opportunity
for self-reflecting words,
mirror myself
rather than
wasting sight on feckless fools.

Because
to a machine
I may not out-think it,
but I can bloomin' well
out-feel it,
with a wry smile in such thought
and hooded gaze
guarding against a time
when mortals have no place.

Another poem about me,
yet still
I remain a mystery,
Good.