16/03/2008

anger/rage/rest

A nightmare comes to me this noon.

This affliction casts a rage over me, a demonic hate is consuming me.

Why am I unsettled, fallen, at the mercy of illusion?

Sweating, writhing, as if gripped by a deadly fever, chills to my heart.

My mind is hostile to thee, my kin.

You stir me to wrath, my beloved ones.

This conscience planted in me, it hurts as I uproot it and cast it from my bed.

A deeper sorrow was not known to me until now.

These hours are heavy on my soul, I would force you hither.

I tear this love from that and this grudge from that.

Anger is a weapon, a dagger I plunge into you with every thought.

Not unlike to a wasp am I, aggravated to a frenzy of stinging.

Then to sleep and dream, dissolve into me, return to me, moon.

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