Poems On Rage Novels & Stories

James asked as he looked at the wrapped package. “Open it and find out.” He smiled as James started ripping the paper off and unfolded the leather vest. “What does it say?” “That’s a phoenix rising from the ashes, same as my jacket. But below it, it says, ‘Blood of Wrath’. That means every biker that sees it will know you’re my son,” he said. James looked up at him, his eyes glistening. “Really?” “Whenever we go to events like today, you can wear it and people will know exactly who you are.” He could feel that tug of emotions in his chest and when he looked up, Jenna was smiling brightly, he could feel that in his soul too.

Rain is gone. Again. And this time, my rage ignites into a forest fire. “Find her!”

She was excising him. A wave of her own rage crashed over him, a burning, righteous fury that was hotter than any fire. It was the rage of a cornered animal, of a soul pushed past its breaking point. And beneath the rage, a despair so deep, so absolute, that it felt like the cold of the grave. No.

"How's it going?" "It's going smooth." "Come on, be honest to me, Femella." She sighed on the line. "I'm suffering right now. I don't know what to do anymore! I hate this! I want to quit this and go somewhere else and change my identity! I feel so powerless. I'm starting to doubt myself. I wanted to end this so badly, Rowald. I do not have anyone by my side. It's hard. Lagma Rey is not someone I should go against. Not with my current status now. I'm poor. I have no money, no connection. I don't have my family by my side. We had long been in the gutter. So I think this mission is impossible."

I relished it; I could handle rage it was the pain that I could not handle. I allowed the rage to take me over. I allowed it to continue to boil inside me. I loved these two people, and they hurt me more than words can say. How dare they screw in my house. How dare they use me, live off the money that I was making working multiple jobs. Kendra has not helped with bills; Donavon certainly was not helping take care of our children. These thoughts kept fueling the rage, sending it into an inferno that was hotter than a volcano.

His face contorted with rage, and his eyes blackened. He felt the rage tearing at his lungs and plucking at his nerves until all he wanted was to burn her alive. His rage stirred, and with it, the fire leaped into life. The flames encircled her; her body caught fire, and the hungry flames ate her flesh. She let out a wrenching cry from the burning pain. With every rise in his rage, the fire grew, and his rage was like fuel for the flames. The fire is melting her bones like a hot knife melts butter.

Rhys Rage was building inside me like a storm threatening to break. The attack outside had stirred something primal within me, and I could barely keep it contained. My wolf was pacing restlessly, its fury a mirror of my own. I’d never fought before, but the intense urge for action surged through me. It was as if my wolf knew what it wanted and was desperate to act.

I said, my tone deceptively light. I stepped to the edge of the boat, the stormy sea stretching before me like a mirror to my soul. Wild, churning, uncontainable. The rage within me boiled, a cauldron of fire and I let it rise. Power surged through my veins, raw and untamed, filling me until I thought I would burst. My hair danced in the wind, my nightgown billowing like wings of a vengeful spirit. My eyes blazed, twin flames reflecting the fury I had suppressed for too long.

And for the first time, it's not heartbreak in my voice. It's rage.

Her plea was an anchor thrown into the raging sea of my despair. “Remember who you are… who I am to you…” Those simple words shattered the cage around my heart, setting ablaze the coals of a fire I thought long extinguished. A wildfire roared to life inside me, consuming the poison and pain, replacing weakness with ferocious determination. Rage, love, desperation—they surged through me in a violent symphony, pushing me beyond the limits of flesh and bone. “No chains will hold me. No poison will break me,” I growled, voice low and deadly, a promise forged in blood and iron.