The Ire of Language

The indignation is within me
Screaming to exit
Manacled in anger
Devoid of convention
Desirous of expression

Often it's jubilant
Untamed and untameable
Screaming freedom

Often long dry muteness
Devoid and frustrating
Most often smothered
Avoiding life entirely

The sleeping quiescence
Always awaiting ignition, conflagration
As if swimming in some tepid void
Desiring vengeance, desiring escapement

Then, then, as if…
A torrent of expectation
Comes spewing forth

And alongside all
Redress
Disappointment