I've shackled her tightly in my mind
Where rationale holds her stern
But when the day wears to the dark
The flame of my Temper begins to burn.

She thrashes free of my restraint
And grabs hold of my wretched desire.
She tears the picture of his face
To throw into the pit of my anguished fire.

He does not think of you, she shouts,
He does not hold you close to him.
And with her fits and pointless cries
I feel the anger begin to dim.

When the light creeps through the curtains,
She begins to tire from state of dread.
I face the sun and truth with a smile
And put my uneasy mind to bed.