Poetry Darker

Rage of Ages

Rage of Ages

I pound the keys as I find my anger flairs with this letter
My wrath will echo and make my soul that less better
Golden and prestine is each line of hate that grows longer
A sweet dream like no other devoured by my eyes like a hate monger
Pound, Pound, pressure behind these soul-bleached eyes
make the screen I stare at, stare back like it would despise
I loath each key I stroke to conjure this letter of ill will
it wastes the time I could use to hang dead weight from my window sill
This letter, this god forsaken letter is truly meant for you
mostly so you know I know, exactly what it is I want to do
To escape all shred of knowledge of insurmounting agony you taught
To return a broken vessel to the store of hell in which you bought
Soul sweetly crying for escape from anyplace that touches you
wether it be the bed in which you sleep so soundly in
or the very soil of this damn planet that touches your skin
or the stars that carress your existence with light
or the virus that kisses you with exhausting blight
Just know you killed me and all desire to be in your realm
when you falsley gave your heart to another
and burned mine within a deciet fueled kelm