Rage poem

What started as a small ember or glow from distant past now transforms into something felt as a growing internal fire within, clouds the judgement and vision much like how black, carbon, soot-like smoke from large chimneys engulfs things and people below or around it,

blackens judgement and vision like a pass through a dark, tight tunnel or a stroll through a street with broken streetlamps or even rehearsing the Dark Ages,

growing larger in height and intensity with every intangible, negative thought chucked casually and carelessly into the barbecue grill fireplace, so much so that this inferno boils the wine, rapidly inflates/deflates the pink, rubbery balloons,overturns tents and garden tables/ chairs on a windy day, all to create a personal Pandemonium.

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