The boiling ring in me
Never stops boiling me.
I have learnt to fight
The war of heat
The war that desires my nudity,
The war that makes the throat thirsty,
The war that itches my skin,
The war that steals my comfort.
It's the way of self,
That can only be fought by self.
It is the war of sweat,
Aided by the blazing light of the day.
"I'll make you feel better"
The rain said,
And so! The rain became my friend.
The rain came in full fold,
The wind blew freely bold,
The trees danced uncontrolled,
The curtains flew undauntedly,
The water fell violently,
Consuming the heat of the land,
Bringing the peace well deserved.
but!
The rain came with great flashes of lightning,
Creating a scaring reaction,
That makes it seem a god.
Through reaction is known by the alchemist,
Orchestrated by the creator.
The sounds of horror,
It creates a frightening splash.
The lightning is called thunder
The rain's second-self.
The sun said
"I can't give light without heat."
The rain said,
"I can't do without thunder"
Originally published on ArtHut via http://arthut.com.ng/viewBlog?hid=h221ii2551ti5n30sg&data=insight
