They say forgiveness is a virtue, a saintly, hallowed grace,

A cleansing of the wounded soul, a smile upon the face.

A turning of the other cheek, a soft and gentle sigh,

A whispered prayer for those who hurt, a tear wiped from the eye.

But I would rather keep my anger, a fire in my chest,

A burning coal of resentment, where fury finds its nest.

Forgiveness may be praised by all, a path to inner peace,

But anger, raw and visceral, offers a different release.

It hisses like a viper, coiled within my core,

A venomous reminder of the wounds I still deplore.

They say forgiveness sets you free, unlocks the chains of pain,

But anger, oh, it binds me tight, again and again and again.

For in its fiery embrace, I find a twisted art,

A bitter satisfaction that tears my soul apart.

Each memory, a poisoned dart, flung from the bow of hate,

Lodged deep within my aching heart, sealed by a cruel fate.

They preach of healing, letting go, of rising from the fall,

But anger whispers, "Hold on tight, remember it all."

Remember every slight and scorn, each treacherous deceit,

The hollow words, the broken vows, the bitter, cold defeat.

Forgiveness, they say, is strength, a noble, selfless deed,

But anger screams, "Remember them, the ones who made you bleed."

It paints a vivid tapestry of wrongs I can't erase,

A gallery of grievances, etched upon my face.

They say forgiveness is a gift, you offer to yourself,

But anger is a weapon sharp, honed on a mental shelf.

It guards against the vulnerability, the softness of the heart,

A fortress built of bitterness, where love can play no part.

Forgiveness may be wisdom's path, the enlightened ones proclaim,

But anger is a primal force, a raging, hungry flame.

It scorches every bridge I cross, leaves ashes in its wake,

A desolate and barren land, a choice I make and make.

They say forgiveness brings you close to grace and inner light,

But anger is a shadowed realm, where darkness holds me tight.

It whispers tales of vengeance, of retribution's call,

A siren song of sweet revenge, where justice will befall.

Forgiveness may be medicine, to mend a shattered soul,

But anger is a potent drug, that takes its cruel control.

It floods my veins with burning rage, a fire in my blood,

A tempest in my tortured mind, misunderstood.

They say forgiveness opens doors, to empathy and care,

But anger slams them shut with force, leaving me bare.

Alone I stand, within the walls, of my self-made despair,

A prisoner of my own design, consumed by bitter air.

Forgiveness may be freedom's key, to break the chains that bind,

But anger is a heavy weight, I willingly leave behind.

A burden I refuse to shed, a comfort in its hold,

A twisted sense of power gained, a story to be told.

They say forgiveness is a choice, a conscious act of will,

But anger is a reflex swift, an instinct hard to kill.

It surges through my very being, a force I can't deny,

A primal scream, a bitter cry, that echoes in the sky.

Forgiveness may be beauty's touch, a gentle, healing hand,

But anger is a twisted mask, I hide behind, unplanned.

It shields me from the world outside, from kindness and from grace,

A lonely, isolated soul, lost in a desolate space.

They say forgiveness is a virtue, a path to higher ground,

But anger is the quicksand deep, where I am forever bound.

And though it drags me down and down, into its dark embrace,

I cling to it with all my might, in this forsaken place.

For in this realm of bitterness, I am the master of my fate,

A king of desolation, reigning in my hate.

And though it may destroy me, consume me whole,

I'll keep my anger close at hand, a poison in my soul.