Rage

Why do the heathen rage

And the people imagine a vain thing??

Its power is mighty

Affecting both the high and lofty

And the meek and lowly

It comes upon a man

Like a disease

Eating away his smiles

Turning a blissful young man

To a mournful old gag

Its poison is quite subtle

Delicately spreading the delicious poison

How can one overcome this ravening disease?

For most people

They apply the antidote

Of calmness and tranquility

Bringing the serene atmosphere

Down to them

But ironically for me,

Like the blood rage of the mother confessor,

My antidote is the touch of love!