Once upon a silent moon,

A focus of pure exaggerated rage,

came into a being of pure centrifuge,

that one could not quell.

Only to fill it where my toe lay,

only to make my body half empty half full.

And when this jar of concentrated emotional imbalance,

It knew everything is spilling over.

Whence all of this can transpire,

I know I can make my days less on fire,

to which all of the rage has no more desire.

Only when it does, 

I know my mind will be in pieces and It can be of peace,

When it shifts concerning its concentration from

anger into a diminutive nothing.



®Artsydhude 97-18



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