Its Not Anger...Its Pure Burning Wrath

I stood there. In the middle of the bridge. On my right, the glorious flames that lick the skies. On my left, the prideful stone-cold rocks that threatens confinement. I cast a sad eye at my surroundings. These are my only two options. I gaze at the sky. Dark clouds gather in the middle where I was standing. The winds crying for release. The bulky weight of the rain as the clouds groan to sustain them.

I gripped the railings of the bridge tightly. I gnashed my teeth in restraint. I shook, trying to contain everything inside. I lose the will to stand. As I fell on my knees, a tear dropped. As though it was waiting for its cue, the clouds released the rain they have been storing. The winds blow a mourning wail. Tears stream freely as I screamed at the top of my lungs. The world was rend apart. The flames blaze on and on. The rocks stood sturdy as ever.

A moment's reprieve.

And then, everything disappears.

The flames shut down. The rocks destroyed. The bridge collapsed. The only sound I could hear was the roar of pure burning wrath from my very mouth. Darkness slowly engulfs me. Black fire surrounds me. I do not feel pain from the hot flames. I do not fear the blackening vision. I could only roar out in the pain in my heart. The pain which tore my heart into a million pieces. The pain which snapped a chord in my brain. The pain which took me to insanity and back to reality.

I adjusted my vision in the blackening chasm. As my sight became accustomed to the darkness, I could make out a large rock that stood in my way. I could hear the screams of terror from the rock. I could taste their fears. I could sense their loosening grip on sanity. The edges of my mouth curved upwards. I clenched my fists and with the strength I had, pounded the rock again and again. Blood dripped from my fists as I continued to smash the rock, punctuating each punch with a roar.

The rock, although quite large, broke after my relentless pounding. As the rock shattered, pieces dropping onto the unseen ground, I let out a scream. I slammed my fists on the blood-soaked ground, screaming and yelling, not in pain but in despair.

Silence in the dark. The only sound I could hear was the dripping of the blood from my hands. I lay down on the ground and gazed at the sky. The rain stopped as I brought down the large rock. Still, the clouds cover the bright light of the sun.

I do not need the sun.

I do not need the hope that people tend to rely on.

I just need the despair.

I just need the pure burning wrath that is who I am.

I just need.... nothing more than that.

CCW