Burning rage,

Seething hatred,

Blazing for seemingly no reason

Flames exude, warding off

The fearful souls around

They scatter, having known

Such inexhaustible fury

Time and time again

They know better

Than to remain in the line of fire

As Wrath marches,

Razing through concrete jungles

And countryside plains,

Screams of pain erupt,

Filling the thick, smoky air

Fighting a pointless, but personal war,

Destruction wrought, lives lost

Wrath is feared by all

I did not know

I had the capacity to feel wrath

until I experienced you,

my friend.

The weight put on my shoulders

pulled me down until not even

my dreams flew.

My body only knew three states:

utter numbness, searing pain, or electrifying anger.

One thing you did not realize,

was that weight pressing down make the atoms

conform to the container;

the smaller the container, the faster the atoms will go.

You may have pressed me down, but my

rage burns through my body

until not even my voice and false

bravado can hide the anger you have

put me through.

I will find a way to make you pay.

If not now,

someday.

I will be waiting

Fire and brimstone in her fury filled gaze

Burning her enemies, forever scarred.

She dances around the ashes and blaze,

A wicked smile bears teeth, her face unmarred.

Death abounds, surrounds, holds her in its maze.

A game she thought to play, leaves her in shards.

For Wrath creates victims, ripping out hearts.

Lives left damaged, long after it departs.