Anger is the volcano within,
A smoldering, living mass of redness,
Confined.
When provoked, it quickens.
Erupting, it chokes up its black fury,
Spewing it forth,
Indiscriminate, careless of the consequence.

Anger’s profile is forbidding
In its unexpected forcefulness.
Arousing fear in the accosted,
Pain, in the unsuspecting recipient.

Wounds received are often multiple.
Flesh wounds heal with medication.
Wounds inflicted deep within the psyche
Fester, fearfully.
Untreated, the burning fluids channel out
Painful pathways within,
Vile, hidden, smoldering.

They may obliterate, in their intensity of foulness,
The very root of pain, once inflicted.
Without true knowledge of the source of hurt,
The unsuspecting victim arms himself,
Fearful now of any outside forces
Massing to exacerbate his torment.
In desperate fear, he calls upon his weapon of defense,
Unmindful of the consequence.
Anger unleashed.

The wheel of anger turns unremittingly,
Attempting to disguise stark fear,
And alleviate the pain inflicted
By another’s angry outburst.

A gentle hand upon the fiery wheel
Can pause the vengeful rotation.
Within this pause, Love’s strength can offer
An opportunity.
The freewill gift of Choice.

- Sylvia Roff-Marsh