Logic has to kick in when body loses the much expected control. The quicker the better. Body is fuming. Teeth and gut are clenched. Mind is shutting down. In such moments, what drives logic to surface? Not so gentle words of a little voice called conscience which tells what is perceived right or wrong by values of self and others. Anger has to meekly meltdown.
But the poor soul that anger is, where does it go? There is no physical form or space for it in the universe. It become helpless and unimportant to the body over time. One fine day, it surfaces when mind is not watching. You see it was always lurking inside not knowing where to go.
An element called rage be-friended anger and gave it a form. The form was in the shape of shattered glass pieces on the ground. Battered bodies soaked with blood. Tumbled and crumbled buildings on earth. Fires in the forest. Whoosh of swishing waters washing away everything on its way. In logic that died. In mind that failed. Of tears that otherwise knew nothing.
But the poor soul that anger is, where does it go? There is no physical form or space for it in the universe. It become helpless and unimportant to the body over time. One fine day, it surfaces when mind is not watching. You see it was always lurking inside not knowing where to go.
An element called rage be-friended anger and gave it a form. The form was in the shape of shattered glass pieces on the ground. Battered bodies soaked with blood. Tumbled and crumbled buildings on earth. Fires in the forest. Whoosh of swishing waters washing away everything on its way. In logic that died. In mind that failed. Of tears that otherwise knew nothing.
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