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You Are Chaos

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Anyone that knew you would describe you with one word; Chaos.
Chaos in the purest form, when you spoke, winds howled.
When you danced, tornados swirled with you.
When you sang, rain pounded down with your rhythm.
And God forbid, on the rare instances you were angry, lightning struck where you willed it, fires raged where you stomped, a war path that led to you, carnage seemed followed you like a shadow.

Of course, you had your quiet moments, and when you did the Earth seemed too still, too peaceful, like the eye of a hurricane, waiting for you to wake and let the World know what your rage really felt like.
When you slept, you slept dead, unmoving and slack, like the thunderous spirit in you got bored and left, leaving but an empty husk to be inhabited again.

When you loved, you loved strong, like nothing could even think of harming what you loved in fear of your rage. When you loved, it felt as though you were in a powerful storm, but it only curved gently around you, destroying everything else but the ground your love stood.
When you loved, it felt as though you were dancing with a partner in space, oblivious to supernova explosions and the death and birth of stars around you, truly, it felt invincible and free, as if nothing could touch you in your world of destruction, blinded by your safe bubble of love and thunder.

When you grew old, it felt like a raging forest fire was dying, you weren’t immortal, but you’d leave something for the Earth to remember. It didn’t feel like dying, it didn’t feel weak or violent or sad. It felt like closing the lid on a lit candle, watching it gently snuff out, the only evidence that it was once lit was smoke swaying in the container.

When Death came, it felt like an old friend, coming back to reclaim what they forgot.