A sudden slight of my sight and you flee,
Amazed not at your fright but my light.
Who must run...I ask
I thought that you should be all thanks to meet one like my kind,
Me who wields so much power enough to call me POWER.
I stand tall,piercing the eyes of the rains,
Shiver is not of me but you.
You gallop for cover while I do a ballet with the rain,
Yet a vowel amidst two consonants is my constant christening...MAD
I am no butter to be oiled at the sun,
Unclad or not,I face no itch at its wake.
You would yell through your hiccuped throats because it burns..
But I always on a platform of surrender, lay with joy.
Come whatever may,
Be it the sky burning red in tears,chills or burns...
the grass with facets of grey,
My legs stagger not.
I would pick my battles no matter the distance,
You would rather suffer fools gladly on a land boat that's not even a third of my might.
I do not scientifical vodoos or silly natters with an orthodox priest...for it would only give niche to under appreciating my niche.
I worry not about...what to eat....exploiting your fright is my honour
When to look...cause you always stare first
Hearts to mend...your laugh at my sight makes way for happy indeed.
Ants to kill...my skin a hill
How to wear...my looks I appreciate
Which to drink...the rain a benevolent drunk
Drunks to love...nature is my praise.
Yet madness is all that rings from thy lips..
Never forget, I am enormous,
A being of many moods,though I never strike unless struck.
If its madness,so be it my pleasure.
NOTE_decided to share this wonderful coordination of words with the family of voices net, inspired by a mad woman who parades my street at every second of the day with so much vibe, she deserves some credit indeed, at least from me, if not the world she goes around....believe me when I say she also has emotions.