And the soul cools down after mighty flare
When the festering clouds clear from angry red skies
When your conscience mends the small internal tear
You see the world again, through views refreshed
No more cages, no more trappings and bond
Within the golden light enmeshed
A chance to wake up to calling voices and respond
In hazy dust of bustling crowd
In twisting, weaving fractals of men
The high that leads one to spear the clouds
Fill the mind's verdant glen.
A pallid remnant of angry burst
Is all that remains, now only calm
The red rage is now dispersed
The body's very own healing balm.
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