A Vicious Cycle...

Anger of the unbridled kind,
Pure unadulterated anger.
Held him in a tight bind,
Until his heart cared no longer

Pity, it seemed had no space.
How could it replace love?
Pity, it seems has its place,
But anger, it is not above.

Anger is essential, they plead
But it is not. Not at all.
Insincere anger, makes none bleed.
If real it makes a man fall.

Anger, Love, Pity and Hate.
A vicious cycle it is.
Heart's appetite they satiate.
Man must live with this.