The Alluring Avenue of Rage

The world knows how your heart pounds and your jaw clenches, how
tightly your fingers curl into the sinewy guts of a balled fist.
Rage, old friend, comes to visit with his hat perched jauntily upon his head,
and most of the time you greet him with a glint in your eye.
No apologies, no excuses,  does he bring. He knows he is the remorseless
Joker on the table, the frequent visitor to your dreams. Bar the door, if you must,
if you can. You will always forget to close and lock the window, or cram
a towel against the growling gap at the bottom of the door. He slithers in
and extends a hand, offering many an object for you to hurl, and you take them.
You make the critters duck and cover. You make gentle hearts tremble. You make
your self out to be this amazing monster. And then he leaves,
and the light returns to your doorstep. He has joined his footsteps once more
to that alluring avenue – the one that joins you to your shadow, joins
your shadow to the heart of all the world’s children. That road
that loops around your best intentions like a crown of thorns upon your head.
You feel his footsteps before you hear the sound they make and you wonder
when will he come again.

Advertisements

About theminstrelscitadel

In search of courageous souls who aren't afraid to dig a little deeper and have a conversation about all manner of things. Rant, rave, debate, discuss... let's do it!
This entry was posted in Contemplations, Poetry, rage, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The Alluring Avenue of Rage

  1. Oloriel says:

    You depicted the emotion quite truly and vividly, weaving the irony and incertanity we all feel at time.

  2. Mission accomplished, then. 🙂 Thank you, Oloriel.

  3. Wayne says:

    That was interesting…I never thought of it like that- some outside entity slithering into our consciousness.

  4. Whether external or internal, it’s us who puts a foot down on the avenue. Glad you popped in to comment, thanks.!

Comments are closed.