Anger, the simple, dangerous substitute to love rules supreme tonight. It bids me, yell and shout. Show your rage. Break things. But I wonder. I pause and think of recompense for these sorts of things. And unflinchingly, I sit, without one belligerent act. I am composed. I am destroyed, I lost the purest thing in me--that reaction was naturally harnessed by anonymous and instinctive calculation-- and soon the angry man is destroyed.
I am hurt, but at peace.
Adonis
Sunday, April 09, 2006
4/09/2006 01:08:00 PM - Old writing
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