Quarrel

Grief anguish and frustration join me as constant shadows,
Akin to devouring my conscience
To consume my abilities of action, reflection, and articulation;
Composure, tranquillity, serenity
Anger, wrath, rage,
It depends on me to rule these emotional parasites.
Me alone;
But I’m not even wrought as merely me;
I’m bent for what surrounds me.
And if what surrounds me resists me, then we are opponents,
Opponents that breed in reverse ways,
Nurturing conflict,
Engendering deviation,
Growing in vast distance;
Severing me to divided fates.
Still, in reality, we are one, no more than me.
I see myself taken by the mist
Wandering between mirth and tears


Quarrel