Thoughts that were burnt with rage
Once, they were closer to the heart too
Remained there, never occurred for them to be put aside
Impostor moments invited the rage
So much burned, but the flames settled mysteriously
Somewhere in the back of an idled place
Life never rests, even at the most unfortunate times
It’s a brief pause after a burned-out phase
Exhausting moments pull back life a little
Like a crease pinched by the unknown fingers
Manipulating with the tightly held thoughts
In a small bundle, the senses become prisoners
Intense rage and the incarcerating times
For the world to witness the troubled moments
As every possible fragment of hope is searched for
None anywhere, but there’s gloom everywhere
If life had carved a little porch somewhere
Or, directed the rage towards a cool creek
There is no rightness left in the repository
Just the age of rage cage the stage of life
~Amitav
You often speak of rage.
SO true. Life never rests, even at the most unfortunate times.
And we go on living, regardless.
Loved this one.
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Thank you, Bojana.
There is so much rage all around. Aggressive, passive, and they at some point just arise to unsettle everything.
Rage is triggered by the fear, the inability to deal with the unknown, and the inabilty to tolerate contrary views. Yet, there is another side of rage that is due to morality and the urge to change.
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And always detrimental.
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The inner turmoils make us have to evolve half cocked since being in mental, physical and emotional harmony is still an unknown but I tend to seek it regardless. I cannot settle for my present state…thanks for a thought-provoking poem/ writing
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Thank you, Glenna. The rage and unsettling continuous struggle emerge from some deep unknown within us and also the unknown that awaits.
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Yes, the belly of the beast
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Oh so BEAUTIFUL
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Thank you so much.
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