The Wrath
Cowering in the corner; it is his turn,
To be freed from my control,
And run rampant.
I can only tremble; and watch.
To control, I botch;
And when loosed, it is not pleasant.
For there is no way to console
Him, nor the difference between us, could you discern.
He's out to swing,
Looking for a quick knockout.
Get in his way, and lose a jaw;
Smashed, bashed and shattered to bits.
A fiery fury, he emits,
And at your face he shall gnaw and claw,
And I try not to pout,
As you begin profusely bleeding.
Pain and suffering are a normality,
Yet this bastard is something different.
He is a part of me,
Yet you drug him out, against my will
And now he wants to kill.
Heart beats coldly;
In a winter storm's torrent
He is very far from friendly.
Reckless and untamed;
Screaming, he shall mosh.
Taking anger a step further,
On you he erupts.
Tranquility he disrupts,
As he tries to conquer
Everyone in his way and you will not quash
His efforts and I will be blamed.
He is me; and I am him.
There is a darkness deep inside
That I ever fight with for power
And command of my body and mind.
He is to be defined
As a twisted horror.
I'm Dr. Jekyll; and he is Hyde.
He is anger and revenge and I don't like him.