Eaten up with anger.
I've let myself fall.
A danger to those close to me.
I have become a lethal weapon
that is ready to kill at a moments notice.
The control I once had I have
relinquished into the night.
The night controls my thoughts.
I am at the mercy of the night.
The seductive thoughts that occur
cause me to wish for someone to hold and love
so that I may not suffer alone.
I've succomb to thoughts of the deepest type the
most dangerous of thoughts.
Daft and cruel they enwrap me
creating actions of the foulest.
There is no control.
All hope is lost.
Anger has won.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice extended metaphor I have become a lethal weapon that is ready to kill at a moments notice. wonderful confessional poem 10