Deep, Deep Rage

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A place so tranquil it calms my heart,
The occasional breeze that swept my cheeks,
Sitting under a Maple trees,
Here I am, twirling a flower of petunia.

How such resentment exists,
Only the heart knew.

And how do the heart knows?
The people themselves knew.

That deep, deep rage,
A silent anger,
That frightening silence,
A very deep hatred,

For such thing to be exposed,
Is a danger towards themselves.

For such ugliness,
There hid a monster,
Waiting to be released.

Thrashing everything around,
A big mess left behind,
One that can never be restored.

And once everything is over,
The monster behind the bar,

You look over your mess,
And realized how much,
You've messed up,

Everything.

[I also posted this at my novel update blog if you're wondering. It has been a year since I've joined there]

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