Chaos Was Pretty
Chaos Was Pretty
"Chaos was pretty", she thought
As she was only a spectator
Never faced floods, quakes or droughts
Yet made herself the nature's narrator
She admired the heavy flow of water
Unaware of the muffled screams
The screams of dozens who drowned
But no one could wake her from her dreams
Danced along with the sound of drops
When it hit the concrete floor
Never knew how it felt
On their bodies, leaving them sore
Unknowingly she fell for destruction
It was all a bliss for her
The fight was yet to be fought
Yet "chaos was pretty" she thought.