Over-standing the Rage

IMG_0304All they see is the rage
The belligerent yellings in the life of a sage
To see past this stage
Requires a humiliation battle gauge
The rage unleashed
Silence in retreat
With the aching of the heart beat
The painfulness of emotional retreat.
All they see is the rage.
The sadness of it is no gauge.
A war on you they will wage
No interventions come through the haze
But upon you lies the gaze
A deceitful, haunting maze
The presence of the eye
A calm of stormy, wrathful lies
Spewing the clichés of by and by.
For all they see is rage
Not the pain behind the age
All they see is rage
The vengeful hatred of yesterday.
To the staring eye of disdain
The judgment is cast and laid.
The eye in the middle of the storm
Never seeing where rage is born
It was never now, but its presence takes form
All the rage of the hurt, the pain, the damning of the forlorn
Take all this together
The hurricane and its weather
See the storm, find the eye.
It’s the damning stare of judgment
Casting the stone at the one who died.

All they see is the rage.
Not the death of the past age
All they see is the rage
Having only the present on which to gauge.
Never asking, never knowing
Only judging at the showing
All they see is rage
Constant, steady and growing.

Oh to be heard. Oh to be seen.
I sometimes hope, I even dare to fuckin’ dream
That when the rage is finally done.
There will be a reckoning to finally come.
When the tears of the storm have past.
When there’s no eye of the storm at last
When the freedom finally comes
That justice will finally be done.

But all they hear is the rage.