Anger in me will not be quenched.
A scream pent up,
an earthy cry
becomes a prayer for freedom.
Winds, skies, and trees call me.
I am gripped by the fury
of ocean crashing into castles
built of sand,
of destruction and untold truths.
Resentment lies on the surface.
A seething volcano thrusts mountains
aside, an eternally searing flame
chars the thought of escape.
I am pricked by sharp unending nights,
monsters that bare razor teeth, evil eyes.
Rage creeps in, dense and black;
my cry for freedom goes unheard.
The very meaning of life extinguished
in bold thoughts and uncontrolled roars,
pain and questions without answers.
I am challenged by the call of the day,
come walk, talk, love, and be.
Where do I put the anger while I live?
I am vitalized by writing and creation.
I am energized by a palette and brush,
challenged by an undetermined tomorrow.
Through the anger and the fire
the Phoenix rises,
brings hope of another day, another destiny.
I am lifted up by shaping what is to be.