his anger was like poisoned air
for all around to breathe
lurking in this foreign world
for all around to see
to loom and build on hatreds hand
and hold this festered will
his mind could only see the blood
that he could never spill
In the wake of inner dreams
coming quickly to his being
inside the silent slumbered beast
wakes to ravage, enraged he reaps.
tension high, like twisted wire
in the presence of the day
step inside the burning fire
to tighten all the frays
One day all of us will have to stand up, whether its to a person, place, or thing. We are the children of men, we are the mothers fathers brothers and sisters. This is a world of violence, the fight for power and money show up on all levels. This is a poem about a fight, one that a lot of us can relate to.
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