The Anger Within

How Fine you look when dressed in rage,
A condition never harmed be age,
Lucky for you, that this addiction,
Is but a temperate condition,

For soon you’ll feel and hear and smell,
All the things that come from hell,
Rather like, and excuse my tone,
Like grinding flesh from human bone,

How fair you look when clad in red,
As all your patience now has fled,
But of course, your lucky too,
As red eyes tend to suit so few,

Lightning will envy the way you storm,
And thunder will wonder about your form,
But let’s not forget the way you grin,
When you have committed a cardinal sin,

How dark you look when garbed in wrath,
As you wander down a wicked path,
From when your of a darker hue,
And you know my statement true,

Speaking of truth, you’ll soon be knowing,
Of why your anger still is growing,
Doors have locks and lock have keys,
They will not open despite your pleas,

How fine you look when dressed in rage,
The horror that you must engage,
And now back to your current shape,
Will mark the start of your escape.