The Fruits of Rage

The welling eye, the bitten lip, A shudder that breaks just beneath the surface of the skin. A quake that engulfs the body as the red sear of emotion covers your skin. A mind rushes to violence, hands long to batter and choke, legs hungry to kick or stomp or at least stop running. Eyes hold a gaze packed with the tools of war. The body wants to collapse beneath the feeling of it but refuses to give satisfaction to anyone but itself. A ravenous appetite for justice. There will be an end to this be it brave, bloody, or both. There will be a change, the future reshapes itself at this moment. A course is set, a stand is taken, proclaimed as truth from this day forward.