Anger

Blinding and deadly, Anger called my name not long ago.
I took his hand for a moment and saw his path:
Indeed, Loneliness, Hate, Mistrust, and Dispassion
Followed along in his silent wake, feeding on
The words and ideas he spoke so casually about.

We walked on for a moment, and I felt a chill descend--
Even the chill of death--brought on by the sure despair
Of the path we followed. But still, I trudged along.

It wasn't long before the band of demons that served him
Left us to torment other souls left to wander in dark ways...
And so I walked beside Anger for a moment, and picked his brain.
He spoke of quick action, brash words, and hidden pains.
He told me tales of truest hurt, taught me the ways of tantrums,
Blow-ups, and blustery screamings. I took it all in stride,
Uncaring, but soaking up every word for later use.

Oh that I had never walked the dark path of Anger!
It took me years to realize my mistake and, fearing the time,
I turned and ran back to where I had started only to find
That all had changed. The sad truth then hit me:
It's never so easy to take back words spoken, deeds done, or time spent.

--C.R.E.