Thunder of the Roth

Its all like a great burning fire,
Thunder and lighting crashing all around,
Feel like the soul is coming unbound,
The heart is beginning to tire.

But the blood now starts to pump,
Fists clench into a murderous ball,
Getting sick, sick of it all,
Going to break it to a bloody stump!

Fucking ignorance, shit and no sincerity,
Fucking anger, confusion and no clarity,

There's no need for it,
This bottled up rage,
Get out of your fucking cage,
It's making your soul itch.

World ending with a tempest,
Might be nothing compared to your test.

That calm is so far away
But why is that so?
Why did you let it go?
Why did you let your feelings enter the fray?

It was nothing, nothing at all,
A teen, tiny misunderfuckingstanding,
No need to stop the heart beating,
No need to fall.

The Roth is coming... and its coming for you.
You let that rage get out of hand
and now it comes.

Each step it takes is the next crash of thunder.
Each blink of its eye is the next flash of lighting.
Each of its tears is the next fall of rain.
And you are the fire of its soul.


I felt unusually angry for no reason today, so I thought I'd write a little poem about anger.