Soul

I mounted my anger
and let it ride me
we trampled friend and foe underfoot
and I felt fine, ferocious, vindicated

barbs don't pierce the leather
mindless of the hunter's mark
numb

and empty
words too feeble to fill the space
thoughts too tumultuous to hear grace

If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing
So much to offer, why offer your soul?

Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful, it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful, it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Paul, 1Cor13