Quiet Anger

 Fiery like a cool tornado fire
binding all my motives to one. Sharpening-
my irritation to the edge
of a razor blade;
it cuts through and strikes fear
into the thickest hearts made
of stone.
And it causes warm gentle hearts to
melt from empty cold stares
and direct gestures solely meant to
terrorise sanity

when Anger runs wild in my mind,
it is blackness that I see
as if Judgement day has caught up to me
and none
including myself
is deserving of mercy

the shape of flower petals turn round,
loved ones turn square
and voices like heavy metals fall to the ground