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.