Anger quietly seething,
In the cauldron of my head.
It's wrath I seem to fear,
It's power I seem to dread.
One day it shall explode,
A supernova of spite.
Eliminating everything,
Burning everything in sight.
An infinite, pounding malice,
A waterfall of rage.
One day it shall release,
An clear out the stage.
And all of those who oppose me
I say 'Join me while you can! '
By then it is too late,
By then I am no longer man.
So a warning to all who irritate me,
This is your final strike.
Watch how you treat me,
Lest your head be found upon a pike.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem