Emotion
A smile, a laugh
the soft trail of tears.
He splatters them around
without refrain.
In his right hand,
a scepter, in his left
a snare.
He catches us.
Contains us.
And if we let him,
consumes us.
He is a fiery passion.
Hate?
Love?
Greed?
He caresses us,
lulls us.
He is a cool flowing river.
Peace?
Calm?
Laziness?
This burning furnace
This deceitful river,
both treacherous, but not
at first glance.
Others give in to his raging heat,
his coursing depth,
but not me.
I control this boiling fire,
and with it, I form a
masterpiece.
I can ride the white topped river,
and drink from its depths.
I control my fate.
I am my master, and I will not be destroyed
by the one we call
Emotion.