Peace, Fury, and Choice

Cold

So cold

But lovely.

A land draped in shining silver and white crystal.

I stare out at the frost that glistens like stars under the melancholy moonlight.

In a world of hunger, war, hot bullets and burning hatred

This cold is not bitter

But peaceful.

Cooling the wounds of mankind.

I do not understand whom can live in the sweltering loathing of the south, and in themselves.

There is no lukewarm middle ground.

Cold peace, deathlike, icy, but numbing. Numbing the natural energy

Hot fury, burning in your veins and charring the tranquility of the human spirit.

I choose cold.

Many choose heat.

But I have felt the heat of rage

It burned in me like in many other

But it dulled for a second and

I realized how I disliked it.

It left me charred and scarred

I will never escape my black wounds

But I can numb them.

Numb them until the time I feel the final breath pass my lips

And release my essence to whatever lies beyond this world of peace and fury

Beyond this world of ice and fire

Until then I am left to brood

Over my life

My propose

But not my decision

That is the one thing I will forever stand by

Until my soul escapes