With the turn of the tide, anger surges,
Rising like a tempest, titanic and fierce,
The ocean churns, waves thick with fury,
A deep roar surging through my veins,
Breaking against the rocks in violent spouts,
Unleashing the storm within,
Striking surfaces fiercely, demanding release.
Anger is a wild wave,
Crashing without warning, unrestrained,
It rages against the silence,
Churning up the depths of long-buried pain,
Like jagged stones pulled from the ocean floor,
Eroded, yet sharp—
Bitterness coursing through my thoughts,
Each eruption a reminder of injustice,
Each splash a call to action.
Yet in the wake of anger,
The tide begins to retreat,
Leaving behind glimmers of clarity,
For what is anger, if not a signal?
Beneath the turmoil lies the heart's true need,
To be heard, to be seen, to change the narrative,
A reminder that every rising wave,
Must eventually fall,
A cycle transcending turbulence into understanding,
Where fists unclench in search for peace,
Finding solace in the eye of the storm.
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