There are two types of active volcanoes

But only those with lithic exteriors are thought of as foes,
Underneath the frigid gargantuan mass, lies boiling, seething lava ready to blast,
This may seem like the peak of passive aggression
However the acts of humans leave quite an impression,
We are the other type, painting away our pessimism stripe by stripe
It’s as if the whole surrounding world is a jury,
So we begin masking and bottling any fury
Hiding behind a smiling face,  we approach the final base,
The burdens begin to pile,
Floating in a sea of pessimism like a massive isle,
When the weight becomes too much, it only takes the smallest touch,
To inevitably reach the destructive final stage,
Where anger is finally released from its shattered cage,
Even those who seemed the calmest inside,always have to reveal their lies,
In a fit that forces friends to agonize,
Hurting with every single cry,
Sooner or later the rage abates, negativity is wiped off the slate,
Impossibly, everything fades into echoes,
But the cycle of hostility always reoccurs to keep us on our toes.