Anger: A Plea to Rise | Teen Ink

Anger: A Plea to Rise

November 16, 2009
By squirreltosey14 BRONZE, New Providence, New Jersey
squirreltosey14 BRONZE, New Providence, New Jersey
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Anger
rising;
as do the tallest of mountains.
sprinting past the tree line, flying towards the iciest of summits.
Rising;
a boiling pot of oil, bursting in every direction,
scalding the soul within of me.

Crying out, lashing in distress,
the anger bursts from within me,
a wave of rage surges out of my every pores.
Consuming me,
as would a great white shark—
one bite from its deadly jaw and I am its slave,
regardless of if I’m dead or alive.

Emotions overcome my senses,
as I seek revenge and reprisal for my pain.
My actions are inadvertent:
what ever my emotions wish;
a puppet to my rage.
My conscious flees to a dark corner in my brain,
as the imprudent side takes control me.

I scream
and I yell,
Fighting for vengeance with no consideration—
for my body or for those around me.
No world would be
could be saved, from the beast.
No mortal spared from my rage.

Desperately,
I attempt to calm the beast within me.
Deep breaths,
in and out.
In and out.
Slowly, becomes quicker and wheezier;
slowly, my body looses the temporary relaxation.

The air becomes fuel for the machine within me,
my head becomes light and my face becomes red.
Involuntary flares of my fists
and shouts of my voice.
My mind is over-ridden by a virus—
the program is installed:
Spare none, kill all.

As the minutes pass of pain and hurt,
A flood of new emotions envelopes the rash force within me.
Guilt of my actions.
Remorse for those,
that played the punching bag in my outburst.
Hate of myself and of life,
for putting me though such distress.

As I mourn,
my head slowly clears away the clutter,
from the most recent hurricane of death.
Tears wash away emotions;
Introspection becomes my sole task.
My mind searching desperately for future protection,
Never again will the levy break.

I shall be strong,
More mighty than the most valiant of warriors,
and fight away the anger,
shove it into exile,
into the darkest, farthest corner of my mind.
I shall lock away my rash emotions,
saving those only of good demeanor.

Yet, hopes such as these are unrealistic.
Pain makes us moral,
fear makes us human.
Anger, makes joy that much more greater,
for anger is the pinnacle of low,
when one can only go up.
I ask all capable to rise.


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