Patience

Patience running thin,
This beast within,
May just win.
A melting clock, refined
Into finer metal to find
In boxes, velvet lined,
Rich and fit for a king,
Unbeknownst, a corruption ring,
Of silver, and thorns, piercing,
Tainting pure fingers,
Leaving honest thoughts, that lingers,
Spilling truths, that poke like daggers.
My dreams reach the sky,
My mind flying high,
Thoughts that will never die.
My mind is at a low dark,
A walk through a dead park,
Anger, singing like a lark.
My dreams have reached a new low,
Darkness the world'll know,
I'll have the world in tow,
Pulling down to the dregs,
Draining the psychic kegs,
The question it begs,
Can you survive falling from the top?
Playing god, each tool, a prop,
Each person a pawn, a former snob.
Writing brazen truths in blood,
Bottled up messages, ink, my blunt blood,
Held back, and suger coated feelings now flood,
In every hue, staining it all,
Opening their eyes to their downfall.
My mind, a wild storm,
My pen, a painful blade, with graceful aplomb,
My paper, my canvas, and platform,
My words, each a scream,
A surreal dream, and real extreme,
My life's eternal theme.
Those in my life who have snubbed me,
And have ignored me,
May not get away so easily.
In the world around them, they were a xenolith
Of moral judgment, towering over others like a monolith,
At its zenith, the truth of my anger is there,
Hiding just beneath the surface, almost bare,
A rolling boil, ready to burst and pop without a care.
Burning winds, not a mere zephyr,
But rather a gust of danger, major,
Leaving ruins to decay and splinter,
Until kingdoms are torn asunder,
Each word, striking like lightning and thunder,
Leaving them exposed in the sun to blister.