Like an old rabid dog, with a hundred thorns stuck in him,
A hundred festering sores that cause him pain and rage;
The wounded man carries his anger and resentment around with him.
Lashing out and causing misery to others in turn,
Little does he know that with just a little effort and some patience,
He can cast off every one of his thorns…
That one by one he could release the demons that torment him;
And in time, heal and come to know a peace,
That would eclipse every good thing he has ever known.