In the depths of despair, where shadows dance,
Revealing a tormented soul's mournful trance.
I shall compose a verse, laden with woe,
A reflection of the darkness that I know.
The anger of life, a tempest within,
Unleashes fury, concealed beneath my skin.
Like lightning bolts, my wrath shall strike,
Casting aside all remnants of respite.
Oh, bitter world, with your cruel twists,
Your mocking laughter as my spirit persists.
In moments unseen, where hope is confined,
I am consumed by a rage, no longer kind.
Each stanza shall bear the marks of despair,
Scribed in blood-red ink, echoing my prayer.
A symphony of anguish, my words shall convey,
The raw emotions, running wild and astray.
Let the darkness unfold, as my pen dances free,
Capturing my anger, bestowed upon me.
This wickedness, this darkness, shall be my muse,
A testament to the desolation that I choose.
So lend me your ears, for a tale I shall spin,
Of a life desecrated, consumed by sin.
In rhythms haunted and verses stark,
My anger of life shall leave its mark.
©viralfreak
V