Anger

To say I love you would be a lie A ruse hidden among many truths To say I despise would be too nice Misleading the depth of this pain in the eyes who pry Here stands all that I am buried in Contracting, writhing, when a false reality smacks the wood I watch the fuel that feeds this never ending stain turn to ash and float away. Any haven set for me, binds my thoughts and dignity. Iron cuffs and silver chains stalk these feelings and lames true gain. Imprisoning all that which imitate happiness. So now let it known as to why your very soul can make me cry. But when peace steals over me. That is when I know you have cease to be.