Fire.

Hate is such a beautiful thing.

It’s fear that gives men wings.

And fear and hate walk side by side.

Like the Dioscuri.

Like the Grimm Reaper and the Devil.

And yet, hate is such a beautiful thing.

Anger is another beautiful thing, closely related to Hate.

When I think Anger right now, the picture that flows in my head is:

This fire, that’s flowing through a tube or a tunnel, similar to water. Beautiful texture of Golden, Brown and Orange. Just flowing together, warming the walls of the tunnel it’s enclosed in. And continuously flowing, beautifully.

Layers and layers of golden brown and orange, flowing over each other, and together with complete harmony. Poetry in motion.

Willing to destroy whatever comes in it’s path, and having the ability to reduce to ashes, in the blink of an eye.

Completely eradicate.

Remove from existence.

Reduce to nothingness. Intangibleness. Until only the memory remains.

And that too, fades away. Time is cruel that way.

But funny thing with hate and anger. Just like you can never forgive, you can never forget. It’s going to be there forever.

The marks of fire against a cave wall. Or the tunnel that held it. Even after the fire is long gone.

IF you can find a way to make the fire go away.