The Pain of Rage

A thousand sharpened blades
Down a thousand wrists in pain
This pain I've come to know
And the guilt that I now show

This rage boils hotter then the very rain of hell
A furious anger I've come to know, and know all too well
The depths of the abyss invite me to be their slave
To do their bidding, kill them all, put them in their grave

They may beg of me, plead with me
Their lives to be saved
But over them, I will see
That the road to hell is paved

My fingers drip with black
From the blood of my heart now cold
Blood runs forth, stains the skin
Leaves a story to be told

Not a pleasant tale
Not a bedtime story
Nothing pretty to be heard

No nursery rhyme
No child's book
Not a single cheerful word

For the blood of anger soils every surface
Leaves nothing clean to behold
But leaves only chaos, destruction and ruin
For the ears of those now told