As the fire blazes, 
the wood is depleted    
Slowly, it's on autopilot
A reflex action
Based on all the pain bottled over the years
 
A familiar possession
Now making the body feel alien to any motion
And control now slips so fast
Like it's running a marathon of speedstars
 
The motion the mouth makes                    
Feels like a wave of wind hitting the skin      
The sound produced                               
Sounds like a ring of a foreign dialect
 
The vision looks blurry like a fog on a cold day
Any movement seems not to register          
Like the background of a beautiful flower
 
The sun, no longer shining                        
Looks like the light in the theater room      
About to consume consciousness
Oh, dear anger... This is how it feels to be under your spell 😟😞