The Wrath

Cowering in the corner; it is his turn, To be freed from my control, And run rampant. I can only tremble; and watch. To control, I botch; And when loosed, it is not pleasant. For there is no way to console Him, nor the difference between us, could you discern. He's out to swing, Looking for a quick knockout. Get in his way, and lose a jaw; Smashed, bashed and shattered to bits. A fiery fury, he emits, And at your face he shall gnaw and claw, And I try not to pout, As you begin profusely bleeding. Pain and suffering are a normality, Yet this bastard is something different. He is a part of me, Yet you drug him out, against my will And now he wants to kill. Heart beats coldly; In a winter storm's torrent He is very far from friendly. Reckless and untamed; Screaming, he shall mosh. Taking anger a step further, On you he erupts. Tranquility he disrupts, As he tries to conquer Everyone in his way and you will not quash His efforts and I will be blamed. He is me; and I am him. There is a darkness deep inside That I ever fight with for power And command of my body and mind. He is to be defined As a twisted horror. I'm Dr. Jekyll; and he is Hyde. He is anger and revenge and I don't like him.