My rage uncoils deep within me, long serpentine limbs slowly unfurling, released from decades of constraint. It moves with the quiet purpose of one knowing that soon they will cause pain. In the darkness of my heart this thing that I have so long repressed explores its new found freedom while time holds its breath. I watch it, poised and uncertain, fearing the power that its pulled to itself, fearing it. I watch unknowing whether or not I want to stop it, whether or not I should again slam home that cage or if I should simply get out of the way and let it consume me and run free.
That quiet rage rises, potential coiled in every twist of its sinewy limb. A flash, faster than a heartbeat and it could present its wrath. And that would be it. It would win.
Cautiously I direct its movements, its untold power. Weeping I simply want to tell it "you win," and stand aside to let it cry out all wounds that have gouged this tender heart.
But quiet, this uncoiled, rage, am I ready to let it tear apart life and love to cleanse so deep that all must turn to ashes in its wake? Am I ready to step off this road and begin the journey again, starting that new life a gray vagabond whose name is yet untold?
And if I chain it still... will it come back under my command? Will it return to be locked in my soul? And if so... what will happen when again it seeks escape?
No comments:
Post a Comment