Peace, Fury, and Choice
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
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
But not my decision
That is the one thing I will forever stand by
Until my soul escapes