Ability to think is stolen away
Thoughts are in a mess, a muddle.
Calmness drowned in a red pool.
Commotion and chaos were friends.
Rage rode on the escalator
Until it reached the peak,
Grinding and growling,
Screaming and shaking.
An uncontrollable anger
That feeds on the adrenaline.
Greedy frustrations.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Della, you switch verb tenses; this seems out of place, BUT you are the poet! when you mentioned 'escalator', i at first thought you were talking about an actual-in-a-store-escalator. maybe an irate person was riding it? but then i decided 'no'. this poem does pretty well giving the feeling of escalating feelings culminating in RAGE! : (: ( bri ;) maybe they sold out of the shoes you were searching for?