A deeply felt #poetry writing by me, after a short gap. But, I can assure you that this one is filled with #Rage. I've not written it with full-fledged anger. Rather, I just tried tap into my naturally residing rage, which is quite intense and much more meaningful; thus evident that it is higher & #Classy, than some nonsensical anger. I hope you will enjoy reading it.
words unsaid - lumps of raked up thoughts choked forever in his numb throat words cooked up, for fine occasions, or for somber days; words never uttered for want of admiration; for the fear of admonition; words stacked safely in his head spilling into his now quiet larynx; wanting to get out - without the Maker's will! words, gathering dust, cobwebs and husk - words laid to rest to rust in his bloody throat; put to waste to wither far away beyond his forgotten existence.
the whelp howled - into night's nascent drips; insonant lunar craters trembled, as he climbed the windy stairs in blind joy! his tongue whipped beads of his being into the night's cold! denizens of the sky pranced around,
cackling and cooing - calling him out, to journey long and hard! euphoria consumed his soul - as his neck laid torn in his predator's jaws; and in moon's witness, joy tore his heart apart - as he scaled the ascendant's pass!