Yin & Yang
He mas molten lava: slow, strong and steady- warm from afar.
His pace was calculated,
flowing from a volcano of deep oranges and reds.
When he cooled he would lose the warmth and sweetness of orange,
But he would be black- a color that had nothing to hide.
She was a wildfire: fast, striking and untamable.
She destroyed everything in her path leaving behind
only a tingling sensation often mistaken as pleasurable.
She burned bright white, the hottest flame,
a color thought to be pure, but surely brought the most pain.
When her flames went out everything would be
the grey smoke of what had been, she would leave no other legacy.
She may have been a tsunami, leaving tons of debris in her wake,
but he was the current that gently pulled and pushed the waves daily.
His movement was subtle in comparison but unyielding.
Many believed they were better off without her,
her fits throwing them into a state of uncertainty.
He knew though, he knew that without mayhem there is no harmony,
And she was a beautiful sort of chaos.
He knew that without dark there is no light
And she was a magnificent sort of concealment.
A destruction that reminded one of the true definition of beauty,
And oh God was she gorgeous.
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