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RISING TIDE |
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is growin� deep inside,
lyin' nearly �neath the surface
intensely hard to hide.
Swirlin� �round my head �n�
poundin� �gainst my skull,
it blinds it bleeds it blisters
with thoughts I cannot cull.
An abnormal verbal burble
breakin� and burstin� away,
belies the monstrous mass
a silent ludicrous spray.
Insidious notes of sarcasm
and double-entendre wit,
spoken in a jaundiced jest
but meant as satanic spit.
Small ostensibly harmless
bubbles boilin� with rage,
contradict the treacherous tips
of icebergs with no gauge.
Anger�s sinewy spines stretch
thru every fetid body fibre,
and every single simple cell
of my brain�s burnin� cyber.
Thinkin� that my head�ll fracture
gnarly joints wrenched away,
poisonous anger vexes veins
and turns my heart to clay.
�Neath the skin coverin� my bod
with flesh foul found throughout,
lies the voracious vice of anger vile
clawin�, cleavin� at my crux,
raspin� naked nerves
�til I cry:
'There
is
no
God'.