It engulfs you,

Raging through you

As a fire does through a forest;

Burning, scalding, scarring.

Lashing out, like the limbs of a burning tree

As you run through a forest alight with flames of chagrin.

These flames writhe and leap from treetop to treetop.

They cannot be controlled; cannot be contained.

You must let them flicker out;

Like the last dying embers of a campfire

After the ghost stories have been told

And the marshmallows roasted to a crisp.

If you dare try to contain this blaze,

Beware the explosive aftereffects

That even the smallest spark can constitute.

Everyone has experienced this inferno;

Some may call it just that; an inferno.

To many, though, it is simply known as this:

Anger.