If you are not so very careful the he would show you his wrath. The wrath of the gods, some said; but only some. The king’s wrath to the rebels was like a backstroke to the face: swift and quick, meaning that it would never totally bring them down. If King Charles the Whateverith wanted to send his troops into the Dark Forest where they would undoubtedly get lost, then so be it. Anna knew that Keyston would be waiting with bow in hand to strike the enemy down.
No one expects the wrath of the self. The self that chews away at the marrow in your bones, and the doctors tell you that all you can do is appease it. Feed it drugs. Talk about it. Talk to it. Beg for it to stop. Nowhere do they teach you how to defang it – or train it to gnaw on something less vital to your sustenance. They don’t teach you to hold the self and kiss it and tell it it’s beautiful. Because then they wouldn’t make money off of it.
wrath. insanity, anger. rash. i hate you with a passion that i cannot describe this imaginary strength has crumbled down and opened up to fill your heart and mind, to fill up a space that was once blank and now its painted black
The wrath of man. I don’t really even know what that means, but it makes me think of wreath. And then I think of Christmas. And what’s the deal with Holly? I’ve never seen a Holly tree and then, come December, they’re everywhere? Weird.
The fear of the wrath of God has kept me an honest woman. If i did not fear Him I would have long since slipped off my moral high horse to join the adulterers of this world. Thank God for His wisdom and grace.
i felt my wrath wash away as i took the pain the chiefs threw at my face in agony. I watched as the life flew out of my youthful appearance and couldn’t help but think that this is what it all amounts to. I tried my hardest to look apoligetic, i tried. but, I just couldn’t come up to snuff. I can’t look apologetic, no matter how hard i try. maybe it’s just my face but the chiefs wrath threw my life into a tailspin.
His wrath is like fire. A small spark which turns into a burning, savage flame and destroys everything in its path. His wrath is like lightning. Which strikes a tree and sends it falling into the void, flaming and crumbling to nothingness.
Wrath.cmales me think of first Gods wrath. Which I never truly understood when they said god is love how could he also be full of wrath. But you know what, people do take you there honestly. A place of anger like you won’t even believe. I’m glad he’s not still like that though. I would have been messed up a long time ago
So angry wrapped in a shredded heart (stringy) clumps of blood flying as you spon around in dizzying circles screaming like a wild animal out of control pain and anger twinged with saddness
“You don’t get it, Lily!” Ky looks at me. Betrayal and wrath streaked across the canvas of his hurt face. “You just don’t get it!”
“I’m sorry, Ky. I’m so sorry!” Hot tears stream down my face. I struggle for words, willing the burning lump in my throat to subside.
Ky turns away from me then comes back, the anger slowly being dissolved by sorrow.
“That was my father,” he whispers, almost like a plea. My heart lurches.
Wrath is when your anger gets control of you, and you can think of nothing else. Wrath is when you are blinded by anything and anything that is not the rage inside of you. It blocks out all others, and makes you both your strongest, and weakest. It is a great power, and a great weight.
wrath is something we all feel though we may not give it that name for no one likes to think themselves so uncivilized. to this end oner always always seems to find a justification for their wrath more thought out than the world’s great philosophies
His wrath is like lighting. Only worse. His wrath is like a kite being struck by lightning, as it falls to the ground burning and crumbling under the flames. This is how I feel. I am the kite. He strikes me down with his wrath. Like lightning.
I sit in the chair waiting for it to happen any minute. “I was expecting you.” I say casually drinking an old red wine. “Really? Impressive.” The man says. I stand up, not really knowing what I was going to see, only to watch the one I trusted for so many years hold a gun to my head. I allow myself to slip a smile when he thinks he has won. “What are you smiling about?” I laugh at him. “You don’t seem to understand.” “Understand what?” He growls cocking the gun. “I’m always a step ahead.”
The wrath of man is a powerful thing. We use this wrath to destroy others for ourselves, a selfish action that rids us of our humanity. Rape is wrath. War is wrath. Murder is wrath. All of these crimes against our fellow man are examples of the horror of the mind that is poisoned by hatred.
wraaatth oh my gosh wait no i’m suppposed to think don’t tell me not to think it makesd think oh no im running out of time and have yet to adress wratth wrraaath oh my goshhh uh hh gra
I was in the jungle. Searching for exotic animals and plants. Things to bring back to my research facility in Uruguay. We’re looking for anything from birds, insects, trees, flowers, even giant gorillas with as much wrath as Godzilla!
I walk into my house, setting down my school bags and phone before turning around to see my very angry and upset mother glaring at me.
“I got a call from the school today!” She flares. I groan, sitting down on a stool as she grabs a kitchen knife and stabs me 37 times in the chest.
He shoved the chair backwards, flipping the table over with force that he never really thought he could manage, the man who sat across from him seemed unmoved by the display. Perhaps that’s what infuriated him the most.
wrath, sounds of waves coming on the shore unabaded is that wrong, is that right, the lapping of waves like hungry tongues, devouring all that anger can encompass in small bites in large appetites. making The small large and the large small in precision. What is the feeling of being consumed totally? Of giving over to the elements of anger and rage? Perhaps its a little like dying.
the wrath i feel when someone cuts me off on the highway is an imaginable rage compared to the devil’s anger at one of his prospects being stolen by angels. why don’t people exercise patience and use their signal lights! also, start making rights when that’s the only option or the light is green!
Wrath is a horrible thing. It’s what happens when people have too much rage, anger, or pent emotions, they take it out on everyone else. Maybe they don’t deserve it, and maybe they do. It all depends.
Khan. Lady Macbeth. Wrath is reserved for larger than life characters….not for everyday life. Tragedy is required. Wrath doesn’t get us anywhere except dead. Wrath leads to revenge…no one wins.
The man named wrath came knocking on my door. I felt fear, and anger raising from my gut. Never again will I let the past happen again. When I answer there
Wrath? You think you are wrathful? Nay, my friend, your anger is no match for true ire. You cannot understand without having been a victim. A victim cannot understand anything else. Continue on in your ignorance, and suffer not from mental disintegration, but know that by not knowing, you do not know the truth.
THe wrath of God will tear us apart and the Devil isn’t the one who will stick us back together; we have turned our wrath against each other and will soon obliterate ourself as we have other species.
He broke in. Machine gun in hand. Ran towards the master. Pulled the trigger into the empty blackness. He held the gun in his mouth and did the same. His skull became pieces as his body went limp.
We pulled up into Qwalia too late to do anything more than survey the devastation. I’d never seen anything like it. The Madhi Militia had rolled through the town, and brought with them fury, hate, and desolation.
The city was destroyed by the Gods. Turmoil covered the streets and the homes and the people. Burning bodies walked across the street. The Demons laughed as the people burned. Hell ensued.
you will feel my wrath if I walk in the door after a hard day at work and simply things are not in order… dog walked… trash disposed…. homework in process… is that too much to ask?
This is power, and it feels great. This is the tower that towers from hate. This is the hour that lasts a day. This is the coward who never stayed. This is the shower that watered the grave.
Wrath is something we feel on a regular basis, something we choose to ignore rather than confront. Wrath is natural to us as human beings. It is what keeps the passion brewing within and the compassion spewing outward.
There is a place in the north of scotland called
Cape wrath I wonder why it got that name perhaps they
Often cried upon arrival on the rocks, perhaps the grief of death.
i feel the blood in my veins boiling like the water in the tea kettle that was put on the stove last september. i thought i’d never see your face again; i guess i was wrong. we all have to deal with things we don’t want to deal with. but you… you are just intolerable. i must make your wrong right.
If you are not so very careful the he would show you his wrath. The wrath of the gods, some said; but only some. The king’s wrath to the rebels was like a backstroke to the face: swift and quick, meaning that it would never totally bring them down. If King Charles the Whateverith wanted to send his troops into the Dark Forest where they would undoubtedly get lost, then so be it. Anna knew that Keyston would be waiting with bow in hand to strike the enemy down.
when i see you i can’t help but feel angry
because nobody will ever love me
as much as you did
No one expects the wrath of the self. The self that chews away at the marrow in your bones, and the doctors tell you that all you can do is appease it. Feed it drugs. Talk about it. Talk to it. Beg for it to stop. Nowhere do they teach you how to defang it – or train it to gnaw on something less vital to your sustenance. They don’t teach you to hold the self and kiss it and tell it it’s beautiful. Because then they wouldn’t make money off of it.
I can’t go to the day any more. I want to see the end of it and know that I finished. No more of this.
wrath. insanity, anger. rash. i hate you with a passion that i cannot describe this imaginary strength has crumbled down and opened up to fill your heart and mind, to fill up a space that was once blank and now its painted black
The wrath of man. I don’t really even know what that means, but it makes me think of wreath. And then I think of Christmas. And what’s the deal with Holly? I’ve never seen a Holly tree and then, come December, they’re everywhere? Weird.
The fear of the wrath of God has kept me an honest woman. If i did not fear Him I would have long since slipped off my moral high horse to join the adulterers of this world. Thank God for His wisdom and grace.
i felt my wrath wash away as i took the pain the chiefs threw at my face in agony. I watched as the life flew out of my youthful appearance and couldn’t help but think that this is what it all amounts to. I tried my hardest to look apoligetic, i tried. but, I just couldn’t come up to snuff. I can’t look apologetic, no matter how hard i try. maybe it’s just my face but the chiefs wrath threw my life into a tailspin.
His wrath is like fire. A small spark which turns into a burning, savage flame and destroys everything in its path. His wrath is like lightning. Which strikes a tree and sends it falling into the void, flaming and crumbling to nothingness.
Wrath.cmales me think of first Gods wrath. Which I never truly understood when they said god is love how could he also be full of wrath. But you know what, people do take you there honestly. A place of anger like you won’t even believe. I’m glad he’s not still like that though. I would have been messed up a long time ago
So angry wrapped in a shredded heart (stringy) clumps of blood flying as you spon around in dizzying circles screaming like a wild animal out of control pain and anger twinged with saddness
“You don’t get it, Lily!” Ky looks at me. Betrayal and wrath streaked across the canvas of his hurt face. “You just don’t get it!”
“I’m sorry, Ky. I’m so sorry!” Hot tears stream down my face. I struggle for words, willing the burning lump in my throat to subside.
Ky turns away from me then comes back, the anger slowly being dissolved by sorrow.
“That was my father,” he whispers, almost like a plea. My heart lurches.
Wrath is when your anger gets control of you, and you can think of nothing else. Wrath is when you are blinded by anything and anything that is not the rage inside of you. It blocks out all others, and makes you both your strongest, and weakest. It is a great power, and a great weight.
wrath is something we all feel though we may not give it that name for no one likes to think themselves so uncivilized. to this end oner always always seems to find a justification for their wrath more thought out than the world’s great philosophies
His wrath is like lighting. Only worse. His wrath is like a kite being struck by lightning, as it falls to the ground burning and crumbling under the flames. This is how I feel. I am the kite. He strikes me down with his wrath. Like lightning.
I sit in the chair waiting for it to happen any minute. “I was expecting you.” I say casually drinking an old red wine. “Really? Impressive.” The man says. I stand up, not really knowing what I was going to see, only to watch the one I trusted for so many years hold a gun to my head. I allow myself to slip a smile when he thinks he has won. “What are you smiling about?” I laugh at him. “You don’t seem to understand.” “Understand what?” He growls cocking the gun. “I’m always a step ahead.”
The wrath of man is a powerful thing. We use this wrath to destroy others for ourselves, a selfish action that rids us of our humanity. Rape is wrath. War is wrath. Murder is wrath. All of these crimes against our fellow man are examples of the horror of the mind that is poisoned by hatred.
wraaatth oh my gosh wait no i’m suppposed to think don’t tell me not to think it makesd think oh no im running out of time and have yet to adress wratth wrraaath oh my goshhh uh hh gra
I was in the jungle. Searching for exotic animals and plants. Things to bring back to my research facility in Uruguay. We’re looking for anything from birds, insects, trees, flowers, even giant gorillas with as much wrath as Godzilla!
I walk into my house, setting down my school bags and phone before turning around to see my very angry and upset mother glaring at me.
“I got a call from the school today!” She flares. I groan, sitting down on a stool as she grabs a kitchen knife and stabs me 37 times in the chest.
He shoved the chair backwards, flipping the table over with force that he never really thought he could manage, the man who sat across from him seemed unmoved by the display. Perhaps that’s what infuriated him the most.
wrath, sounds of waves coming on the shore unabaded is that wrong, is that right, the lapping of waves like hungry tongues, devouring all that anger can encompass in small bites in large appetites. making The small large and the large small in precision. What is the feeling of being consumed totally? Of giving over to the elements of anger and rage? Perhaps its a little like dying.
something we must just let go . not to involve , indulge and dwell on . something we must not entertain nin our thought
the wrath i feel when someone cuts me off on the highway is an imaginable rage compared to the devil’s anger at one of his prospects being stolen by angels. why don’t people exercise patience and use their signal lights! also, start making rights when that’s the only option or the light is green!
Wrath is a horrible thing. It’s what happens when people have too much rage, anger, or pent emotions, they take it out on everyone else. Maybe they don’t deserve it, and maybe they do. It all depends.
surely this misled deed
will warrant
the Wrath of God
nothing can save this soul.
Khan. Lady Macbeth. Wrath is reserved for larger than life characters….not for everyday life. Tragedy is required. Wrath doesn’t get us anywhere except dead. Wrath leads to revenge…no one wins.
The man named wrath came knocking on my door. I felt fear, and anger raising from my gut. Never again will I let the past happen again. When I answer there
Wrath? You think you are wrathful? Nay, my friend, your anger is no match for true ire. You cannot understand without having been a victim. A victim cannot understand anything else. Continue on in your ignorance, and suffer not from mental disintegration, but know that by not knowing, you do not know the truth.
THe wrath of God will tear us apart and the Devil isn’t the one who will stick us back together; we have turned our wrath against each other and will soon obliterate ourself as we have other species.
wrath is sometimes good
He broke in. Machine gun in hand. Ran towards the master. Pulled the trigger into the empty blackness. He held the gun in his mouth and did the same. His skull became pieces as his body went limp.
What i feel when someone stole me something. i want them to burn in hell while i see how they suffer between the fire of the underworld
We pulled up into Qwalia too late to do anything more than survey the devastation. I’d never seen anything like it. The Madhi Militia had rolled through the town, and brought with them fury, hate, and desolation.
The city was destroyed by the Gods. Turmoil covered the streets and the homes and the people. Burning bodies walked across the street. The Demons laughed as the people burned. Hell ensued.
you will feel my wrath if I walk in the door after a hard day at work and simply things are not in order… dog walked… trash disposed…. homework in process… is that too much to ask?
This is power, and it feels great. This is the tower that towers from hate. This is the hour that lasts a day. This is the coward who never stayed. This is the shower that watered the grave.
Wrath is something we feel on a regular basis, something we choose to ignore rather than confront. Wrath is natural to us as human beings. It is what keeps the passion brewing within and the compassion spewing outward.
There is a place in the north of scotland called
Cape wrath I wonder why it got that name perhaps they
Often cried upon arrival on the rocks, perhaps the grief of death.
i feel the blood in my veins boiling like the water in the tea kettle that was put on the stove last september. i thought i’d never see your face again; i guess i was wrong. we all have to deal with things we don’t want to deal with. but you… you are just intolerable. i must make your wrong right.