Beware the figment of natural beauty.

There-in lies a secret.

A certain natural duty.

 

Observe:

 

The liquid swirls in a rampant tornado.

The amber glows of a midnight volcano.

 

Your wildfire stare that hangs, forlorn.

Like hopeless peace in the eye of a storm.

 

I ask myself: Is the power in your beauty,

or the beauty in your power?

 

Or does idle philosophy help only but pass the hour.

 

You burn like the sun,

and draw life with your smolder.

And in one single heartbeat, this world could be over.

With your will. Your indifference.

Your deadly beautiful, supernova.