A tale was told to me
Of an angry king of old
Whose kingdom fell to a bitter force,
To an anger he could not hold.
He was said to be an honest man,
Courteous and contrite
But widely known for fits of rage
Causing many to fear his might.
One such fit lingered long,
And the kingdom felt its looming
Like a shadow cast by the king's emotions
With seeds of unrest blooming.
On a stormy night, in the castle chambers
Where the king lied fast asleep,
A visitor came and in the king's chest
He plunged his naked steel deep.
"Why?" The king asked,
His dying voice soft and low.
The visitor answered the king,
His eyes with a somber glow,
"A man who crowns his anger king
Cedes the right to rule his life
And this is how your anger rules,
With the cold edge of a knife."

Let go, you'll say
then come running right back.
"Be mine."
but I'm afraid
I'd rather not to give in this time.

And I know that I should be careful,
That I should hold back,
But with you, I can't.

You spark the flame,
The forest fire of passion
In my heart.

Getting attached to someone
Is the one most ******
Up things you can do

Once you're attached
There's no turning back
It becomes too late before
You even realize

It is terrifying when you
Realize that someone else
Is in control of your
happiness

Because when they walk away
You find yourself stuck
Attempting to re-gain
Control of yourself.

**I Hate This

In Dante's Inferno,
the unforgiven
sinful souls of lust
are blown about in
restless hurricane force winds.

It is symbolic
of their own lack of self-control
to their lustful passions in earthly life.

They are thrown around in a storm
created by their intense desire
for drugs, money,  food,
fame, power, or ***.

But is this Hell
truly in the afterlife?
Or is it a state of mind?
A state of being?

A hurricane is a rapidly rotating storm system, spiraling in on itself,
laying destruction across where its twisted arms flail.

The storm is an unbalanced, intense concentration of energy.
The eye of the storm is sin.
It is uncontrolled desire.
It's where the Self resides.

Inside the eye, though, everything seems calm.
It's cool and breezy,
the air is clear.

There is no experience
of the destruction of
what lies outside.
The surrounding wall
of the storm
is too thick.

They whose mind is plagued with such a storm is blinded.

The penitent
walks through flames
to purge themselves of
lustful thoughts and feelings.
It is symbolic of the process of God's forgiveness.

But is it after we have died?
Or is God's forgiveness
the forgiveness we receive
from those we have hurt
in our lack of self control?

To apologize and accept forgiveness can be a complicated process.
Like the flame, it's painful. But it is cleansing.