Storm Unleashed

I'm getting into the habit of venting my emotions on paper (or via keyboard), that way I can practice writiting.

 

Unbeknownst to those around him, a storm rages uncontrollably within. It descends violently upon him as it smashes through the walls he raises against it. An invasive, sickening, feeling infects his essence to the core. A struggle ensues. A battle is fought for his possession and this disease beats him into submission. The sickness fills his ears with gruesome shrieks begging to be heard. The screams torment him day and night as they cry out, in their bloodlust, for vengeance. Images flash before his eyes; they swirl within his empty mind like the hard liquor that swirls within his empty gut. These images are those of his greatest failures in life, images of the people who will always hate him, and of those who will never love him. They fan the flames of a scorching rage that lies deep within his soul. It’s a thirst that begs to be quenched by the tears of those who’ve harmed him, to be drenched in the pain of those who are nearest around him. This god forsaken thirst culminates into a raging inferno of hatred and anger, and it razes everything in its path until there is only a mere resemblance of that which he once had. Yet he feels that if he holds the flames at bay just a little longer they will subside; but they don’t. The fire continues to blaze and the smoke continues to arise. As it mars his vision of reality, it disrupts the very fabric of time and space; causing a break down in the common morality which he shares with humanity. The tears that fill his eyes aren’t enough to quell the pangs deep inside, and the demons ask for more. They ask for a sacrifice that is worthy of the cause. Yet, he will not give in and he refuses them what they ask. But without this sacrifice their fury rages on, sucking him into an eternal whirlwind of despair. As he sinks deeper into the abyss, his hope slips slowly from his grasp; and with one last final gasp he pleads with the demons for a reprieve; but they only laugh. Mocking him in every aspect of his life, they obliterate the mental defenses he puts up against this strife they’ve unleashed. As he lies defenseless, they rain horrors upon him without mercy. And just when he thinks that he can no longer continue this battle and he’s about to concede, it’s over. Just like that it fades away, leaving in its wake an unrelenting feeling of anxiety. A loneliness that blurs his opinion of this actuality, and he whispers to himself “Will I ever truly be at peace?” The woman in the funny hat, standing in front of him, flashes him a quizzical look. She replies “Do you want cheese on that?”

Author's Note

Let me have it.

Reviews

[Lesley Wood]

Love it Love it Love it! (the ending the best part), and love this line- "They fan the flames of a scorching rage..." It is one of those dark philosophical brooding poems, but then such a funny twist. Reminds me of the angst of teenagers...But I do love this and the only thing I can say IMHO if you want to make a stronger poem, omit repetitive words-but the ramble might have been part of your point. dunno. Anyhoo-Welcome to the Cafe! :D