My Rage
The cold voice of my rage roars through my head.
And I am struck dumb by what this implies.
I had thought that he was long dead.
Yet now I know he controled those lies.
I can feel him, he is very near.
Truth be told, time is short.
I force aside aside that cripling emotion of fear.
For I shall be no ones sport.
That part of me, I left for dead.
It has returned for me again.
For now my power of rage has fled.
But soon I shall once again be pain.
Yet things are different now.
And I shall have the power.
For the worst change has happened now.
My heart hard as rock not soft as a flower.
~Matthew Finch~
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