I am master of those who are weak.

I am the other form of tears, and

I stay in disguise.

I am thought to be with the brave, the valiant.

But, I am not.

The weak take my help

As they get afraid by even the slightest provocation.

I control their minds, I control their actions.

They are my puppets

As I am their master, I am the Anger.

I am afraid of the brave.

Brave are those who smile at their enemies.

Brave are those who hug the angered

Brave are those who love.

I become weak in their presence.

I am the Anger, and they are my masters.


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