I write of wrath, of rage and anger,
And murderous thoughts towards my betrayers.
I write with vigor and blood-lust,
In violent tempests, if I must.

I write of the madness she incurred,
In piercing fury, my heart concurred,
For solid as a rock it shows,
And red with rage my aura glows.

I write of indifference, my violated
persona can take only so much hatred.
Await me filling my soul with black,
Dark things as though there was ever a lack.

I write of the tolerance I have left,
For a loving patience of me was bereft.
In faces around me, I wish them only death,
My thought: I wish not the same air in our breath.

I write of the fires of my flaming hate,
The lack of gall in the events of late.
I no longer know how to remain humane,
in a state where anger drives one insane.