Disha Shree

February 3, 2007- India
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The Angry Soul

The anger from my eyes showed the scared child within?
The girl who was taught to fight? Denied the love she craved?
I knew the pain beneath it, the grief that came in waves,
Soul drowning in the persona she'd created to fit to the indifference,
Turning the pain to anger, she boiled in the lava of her anger,
It churned within, hungry for destruction, well, I know why.

The pressure of this raging sea of anger, shutting out the world,
Darkness swallowing me whole, from head to toe,
Fire of fury and hatred swimming in narrow brown eyes,
The anger like a looming huntress, lurking at night,
Underestimate her, and boo! She's ready to strike,
You see the threat, and she plays the game right.

Hurricane of the harsh, horsed insults out,
Face bright red, well, like a ripe tomato? Ugh,
She says- 'Blood was bound to be spilled, feelings hurt',
'What made you this way, angel of death,' they ask all the time,
A throaty laugh, much more like the devil, she said-
"I was too vulnerable to withstand the heat, they misused that."
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