Rage Poem by Dan Lundahl

Slowly I see these tainted black and red signs,
All these encryptions of rageful designs,
Enhancing both fists, shoulders and spines,
Slowly being entrapped by hateful vines.

As the blood rushes furiously through my veins,
My hands, my legs and my chest locked in chains,
No feeling like this one, these thousand pains,
Like being run over, by a thousand trains.

This disease slowly taking control of my lust,
All my willpower, my conscience, turned to dust,
Ignoring what happens around me, forgetting trust,
Not being able to see how I'm the cause to the rust.

I bite, I snap and I bash so hard,
Completely ignorant, that they're off guard,
My own desire, locked inside a shard,
Who am I to talk, I've got theirs jarred.

I'm sorry for my trip, won't happen anymore,
And I know, that upon this, I once swore,
I didn't keep that promise, for it was poor,
But this time, it's from the heart, from the core.