Poetry

The Roar Inside

A crimson thread snakes through the void,
knotted tight with the weight of words unsaid.
It hums like a storm, static sharp,
a pulse that gnaws at the edges of reason.

Shards of light shatter against the air,
fragments spinning like furious comets.
Every breath, a clawed ascent,
scraping against walls that will not yield.

The ground swells—
soft one moment, molten the next,
betraying the rhythm of a heart
too loud for silence, too wild for peace.

A scream curls in the throat of the wind,
its shape undefined, its edges raw.
It bends but does not break,
a shadow that eats its own reflection.

Here lies the ache of fire restrained,
the ache of rain that refuses to fall.
It whispers of release—
but holds its breath,
its fury coiled, waiting.
©️anie