Emotion

A smile, a laugh

the soft trail of tears.

He splatters them around

without refrain.

In his right hand, 

a scepter, in his left

a snare. 

He catches us. 

Contains us.

And if we let him, 

consumes us.

He is a fiery passion.

Hate?

Love?

Greed?

He caresses us,

lulls us.

He is a cool flowing river.

Peace?

Calm?

Laziness?

This burning furnace

This deceitful river,

both treacherous, but not

at first glance.

Others give in to his raging heat,

his coursing depth,

but not me.

I control this boiling fire,

and with it, I form a 

masterpiece.

I can ride the white topped river,

and drink from its depths.

I control my fate.

I am my master, and I will not be destroyed

by the one we call

Emotion.