Anger

A Mental Health Poetry

A volcano blasts off, Spewing ashes black, And magma of color, Hellish orange-black.

Anger comes over us, Like the tsunami, Which devours everything, Overshadowing our reason.

With all mental faculties, Shut off for further notice, Not that we notice at all, We become fire.

Fire burns, It burns hard, It burns everything, It burns all.

Anger burns us, Our neurons, Our reason, Our relationships.

For things said, In anger, Are said to come, From not us.

We say it is something, Something comes over me, Something, It has no name.

Like the monsters, That hide under your bed, When you sleep, dream, And even when you are awake.

Anger rules everything, It overrides all, It dictates, Actions actively.

For things, That can’t, Be done, By a sane you.

Will be definitely, Done by the, Angry you, The wrath in you.

Anger holds the most, Power of all emotions, The proverbial Zeus, Of our emotions.

In its hand, The metaphoric, Lightning bolt, That holds power pulsating.

But, for anger may, Dictate, But it won’t, be eternal.

For when everything, Is burnt, We, the sane us, Are left to collect the ashes.

The crying us, The regretful us, The dejected us, The downhearted us.

There is a way, There is a light, At the end of this, Burning path.

For the air may, Sway the fire, To burn more, Burn much more.

But for us, The lucky ones, The air or, Must I say, breath.

It is the most, Beautiful thing, For when you breathe, You come alive anew.

In anger even, When everything, Shuts off, There is still breath.

For you are alive, In the fit of anger, Still insane, But not inanimate.

So breathe, Breathe and breathe, Bring yourself back, To life again and again.

And thy shall, Then transcend, Anger and accept, Life for what it is.