I know the anger that is plaguing you, Its blinding force entering in waves Seeming to be yours and yet not true For it finds reception in the soul that caves
And opens to its debilitating force. It was in me for years and took control And still it has not run its final course Inhibiting the progress of my soul.
At times when I was in a lower state Of consciousness erupting through my voice Spewing unpleasantness bordering on hate I could not cease it having had no choice
Until I stilled the vital in its place And found in myself the silent home of Grace.
Poems Undated (1727)
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Narad
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