Rage

Carefully tailored words,
woven through with care,
strung with golden hope because
it's all to lose out there,

Despite your chiding head,
you listen to your heart,
and only when it's over do
you know this wasn't smart.

A splattering of rage,
stoked with sheer desire,
hungry and wanting to burn begins
it's work on your funeral pyre,

Cold as steel and sharp,
stuck in the back of your mind,
and you know you overshot this as
you yell one final time,

Hope had laced your words,
defeat dragged on so far,
crushed and slowly sprinkled on
the pain within your heart,

Sizzling there like poison,
a batch of rusty nails,
stinging on and whispering,
go on, you will prevail,

So once again you tried,
blinded by the wind,
of things that rush around your head,
you tried and sought to win,

For if you had this victory,
then everything's okay,
but now you're left with nothing but the dull burn of dismay.