Therapy Bits

When wrathful storms arise within my breast,
And reason’s voice is drowned by thunder’s roar,
The calm I knew lies shattered and oppressed,
As anger’s tide consumes the fragile shore.

My thoughts, once clear, now burn with crimson flame,
Each word a spark to feed the seething fire;
The heart becomes a forge of blind acclaim,
Where molten rage reshapes my soul’s desire.

Yet when the tempest fades, and silence stays,
Ash settles soft upon the ruin’d field;
Regret walks slow through smoldering disarrays,
And bitter truths beneath the ashes yield.

So learns the heart, when fury’s fire is spent,
That peace is forged through anger’s sad lament.