The *** sat smouldering on the bench,
It was cold and quiet.
If I didn’t touch it,
If I avoided it,
If I pretended it did not exist,
Then I could continue on by?
Then I would fine?
But, in that *** lay the source of my potential.
Something I over looked.
Something that I dismissed out of fear,
Out of disgust?
Something that I didn’t value.
But, when I gave breath to anger,
The coals lit up.
They glistened like a temptress;
Ready for a night on the prowl.
She got her opportunity to rise,
Steel capped boots on,
Cat of ‘nine tails’ in hand.
She went on a rampage with righteousness rage.
No one could hide.
And when she stopped,
Nothing was left in her path,
Only desolation.
Hope seemed lost,
But a new life came.
Light broke through the darkness, and
Quietness and solitude satisfied.