Sometimes rage

releases from me.

Torn is all reason

I a fire I breathe.

I would be but a

simple simpleton.

Yet below a scalp

bewildered I run.

A thought drawn

in pounding veins,

blazes as if a fire I

project all of pain.

The narrow hedge

that keeps hidden

me from seeing a

beauty is a prison.

Ask why to heaven

I on a knee I weep.

Ask why to heaven

I arise from a sleep.

What is this place

that ignores sense?

Battle the day on

I go to commence.

World of rancor I

spit at feet of yours.

Though bent inside

dark there is cure.

Take my flame an

evil plane of earth;

bring battles find I

a fight it is worth.