St. Anger

I am the embodiment of hate and rage

From the tiny rat trapped in a cage

To the wars of man, life lost in vain

And anyone who spends their life in pain

 

Not quite from Heaven or Hell

But lost in Limbo where I fell

Ignored, forgotten, cast into stone

Not really here, but never gone

 

The angel with the scabbed wings

Blackened, broken, useless things

Twisted halo turning to horns

Noose around my neck, caught in this form

 

Bound and tied, gagged and silent

But loud enough to incite violence

To stir men’s hearts and twist their view

To start the fire of hate anew

 

Give me not your sick

Your crippled

Your poor

But your violence

Your hate

Your rage

Your pain

 

For I am St. Anger

The keeper of the broken

The finder of the lost

When callous words are spoken

And lines are stepped across

I am there to whisper

To push and poke

And a response evoke

To turn to my side

And bring another to my fold

My followers, my keepers,

My children brave and bold

Wild, untamed, uncontrolled

Reviews

[Rita L. Sev]

A brutal saint I will not be praying to, for it seems he does the preying... Vivid and raw; good write.