Misplaced rage cuts deep in many a way
One must be wary of the words you say
Even intoxicated curses sting in pain
She creeps wearily still not seeing clearly
To choose between the hell she knows
Or an apparent mirage in reality
I am not the uncontrolled rage that sometimes boils at the surface
I am the shaman fighting to ensure it is something productive
99 battles out of 100 I win
Sometimes that one battle is damage enough to sink
A ship with a captain who is afraid of having to go down with it
Tis’ but a Man 