rage and the underwold

A Poem by outlandish

A redemption plea on behalf of all rage infected humanity.

The silent scream called rage is crawling red mist shadow like over your benighted face it shows visible in every crevice, in all hallowed chasms of your innermost darkest place.

It dark stains bleeding inks the very skies above the torments you feast on, it awakens angst driven unbridled elementals that devour your universe.

The demons you unleash flash crystalline white heat as they drag you to their unlit rage flood, quivering underworld.

You have become a passenger of your emotions dragged uncharted without control, shameless in your anger near driven mad enraged.

Please pray for Persephone trapped in winters embrace the unwilling wife of Hades, eternity stranded in that damnable place across the river Styx where only the dead linger on.

Lesser Goddess of the underworld offers life renewed as bittersweet pomegranates tether her to mortalities world cyclically with the seasons, while in your damnation rage; you are trapped in her netherworld with no bittersweet respite just supping on scorched dirt.

Neither time nor distance shapes the depths that you must plummet; no gilded winged eagle or hallowed angel will lift that silent scream and carry it away.

Only you the reader and occupier of stored slow festering rage can summon that tiny gift called hope, the last to depart Pandora’s cataclysmic ripples that changed the world eternal.

Only you can undo the damage you have done and find a place of calm on a road to personal redemption, there is no secret word panacea but to recognize what you have done while a passenger to rage.