It becomes sickening obvious to his foes: this is his storm, this is he. He stops, Unchecked by the chaos surrounding him. His madness drives the storm, and the storm, him. Gunshots and profanties fill the air and still he advances, ever aware. His face, cloaked in a half-sneer, a sardonic look about his face. The time has come, it is now, and this, the place. The boy the storm consumes isn't the man it releases... I guess to me it's about my personal battles with anger over everything in life and how I can learn from it and shape it in a positive way.
I used to get really angry about a lot of shit. This really explains how it was. The ANGER becomes its own entity and seems so overpowering. Thankfully, these days I'm more at ease with my world. Good write, Peace, A.
