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Storm In A Bottle
Torrents wash up with tidal waves of wrath,
You reject, you repress your own terrors...
You collapse, you crash, don't you see the aftermath,
Of your anger, your agony, your eddy of errors?

Oh, you brew billowing impatience in that bustling brain,
You recede, you retreat, before you mess up once again.

You hide from your own impending calamity,
For you know you'll overflow with all extremity.

Your greatest weapons are your words, they twist and turn,
Hurled in a hurricane, ice cold, yet they burn,
And once they lash out, they never really return.

You hide from your own inevitable catastrophe,
For you know you'll flood and leave nothing but tears and debris.

Oh, if they knew of the tempest inside of your brain,
They'd scorn in a cyclonic squall and call you insane.

Torrents wash up with tidal waves of wrath,
You rumble, you rupture, unable to feel,
You shout, you scream, this is the aftermath...
The storm in your heart isn't something you should reveal!

Alter Ego, your words are a curse,
Bottle them up before they get any worse.
© Alter Ego