Anger
Hold of chainlink
Wrapped around the lengths of the body
Each vein, each slither of
Viscera burns incarnate with rage.
Nothing quite holds like the scorn
Of a boy forgotten,
Of a man trapped between limbo and reality
Never truly living
But just about alive
Ah, there it lies,
The burning tissue
The rage of a boy
A man
So lost he cannot see
The rays through the fog
But yet, try douse the flames
And they reach heights un-obtained by man,
Babbel reborn, the renaissance of man's rage,
Through one boy
Too scared to feel anything else
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