Poems On Rage Novels & Stories

Robin’s POV The rage within me bubbled like molten lava, a force threatening to consume everything in its path. Selena and Leila’s visit had left a mark on me, and as they departed, the anger within me erupted. In the quiet of my study, I paced, my wolf clawing at the efforts to control it. The image of Shannon in bed with my sons burned in my mind, a betrayal that increased the rage within me every time I pictured it. Unable to contain the rage inside me, I abruptly swept everything off the table with a forceful motion, a frustrating cry escaping my lips. Papers, files, and books scattered across the floor, reflecting the anger in my chest.

Adrian Blackthrone Rage was the only thing I could feel. It consumed me, a seething fire burning in my chest as I grappled with the overwhelming anger coursing through my veins. It's a primal fury, directed not only at Elliot for the unspeakable torment he inflicted upon Morana and Hazel but also at myself for failing to protect them and at the Moon goddess for making them go through such cruelty. I clenched my fists at my sides, and my jaw clenched so tightly that it threatened to crack under the pressure. Every fiber of my being yearns to lash out, to unleash my wrath upon the world until there's nothing left but ash and dust.

Anger welled up within me, coursing through my veins like a venomous poison. I felt its searing heat radiate from my core, fueling the flames of my resentment. The world around me seemed to shrink, suffocating me with its unyielding grip. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms, desperately seeking an outlet for the overwhelming rage that threatened to consume me.

"I do not know. The baby does not know. But it is composing a new verse right now. A verse specifically for the rage. Not to suppress it or counter it. To include it." "Include rage in a lullaby?" "Lullabies are not just about calm. They are about safety. And safety means acknowledging everything that hurts and saying: you are allowed to hurt here. No one will punish you for it." Jack looked at the compass. Its needle was pointing at the bridge, at the harmonic pathway carrying golden energy into the dark, and the warmth it radiated was not just purpose. It was tenderness. The compass was pointing at a universe built on rage and saying: this also matters.

All I see is red. Suddenly I feel something worse than pain. Rage. So bloody hot I could fry up a whole flock of sheep. Rage, so powerful that I can’t even remember when I stood. Rage, so overwhelming that the next thing that happens I don’t know whether it’s real or false. My entire body starts to shake and before I can acknowledge the sharp pain that's piercing through my body, I’m already headed straight towards the men that held me down. I’m seeing them a lot clearer than before, almost as if they're in 3D now and they somehow look smaller. I don’t know what part of my body I’m using to tear them apart but I don’t even care. I just know that the rage in me wants them dead. It’s almost as

Maximus’ POV The rage in my chest boiled over as I slammed the door to my office shut, the sound echoing like a thunderclap. My aura pulsed, dark and oppressive, wrapping around the room like an unforgiving storm. The air felt heavy, charged with my fury, and I couldn’t suppress the growl rumbling deep in my throat. My fists clenched so hard my nails bit into my palms, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the roar in my mind.

What came next was the rage, you think you knew anger before, you might be angry when someone cut's you off, when someone cheats on you, when your parents don't love you, you might hate people then, but that's nothing, it's a dote in the sea of anger you'll be feeling. White rage, white anger, you'd always think that anger is black, but it's white, it's white of colour, there's no depth, there's no end, it's pure, nothing can come along, there are no stars to lighten up the dark sky I'm feeling, it was just me and my anger. First I could remember every time someone has hurt me, I could recall every fight, every slap, every smack, every heartbreak, and every moment in my short long life that

Arthur’s POV Rage lived beneath my skin like it had always been there. I had felt fury before. On the battlefield. In courtrooms. At myself. But nothing compared to what I felt now, watching her sit at the desk, calm and composed, signing away the last tie that tethered her to the man who broke her and never once deserved her. It wasn’t the loud kind of rage. It was deep and still. The kind that made your jaw tighten. The kind that settled in your chest like heat and waited.

Rage was running his veins like a lava which was ready to burn the whole world. He stood up suddenly, pushing the chair with a great force and his friends looked at him. They could sense the change of demeanour in Killian. Killian's eyes turned bloodshot as he recalled how that whore slapped him in front of everyone. She fucking insulted him in front of everyone. No no dared to raise their eyes at him and this fucking bitch raised her hand at him. Rage took over and he punched the window in frustration, the glass broke and some of its pieces pierced inside his skin. Deep red blood flowed down his palm but he didn't feel any pain. His heart was burning in agony and he wanted to burn Amara in

Every ounce of energy I had has been expended. Yet, nothing has changed. I'm still the same. Filled to the brim with grief and agony. And something else... My nose dries as I pen the other sentiment whirling up a storm in every fleece of my being: rage. It's rage that weaves around the span of my lungs, squeezing so hard that it makes it so difficult to breathe.