Rage

Rage is a beautiful thing. It’s the lightning, thunder, and wind gusts before depression. Before the rain. Rage is alive, volatile, electric. Feel the quickening pulse, the adrenaline earthquake, shaking, uncontrolled, unplanned.  Rage is unknown. It’s interesting. What will happen? Will it destroy itself, or lash out? When the rain starts, will it be at rage’s funeral? When depression hits, will it be remorse? Will the virile wind gusts whip rain torrents or leave an infertile drizzle? True rage is change. It channels fire, wind, water, and earth. Subservient elements. What is rage, but what it does? Change and destroy. Create opportunities for new. Different. Better?

PC