Love is elemental.

takes shapes and forms, it shapes and transforms.

builds, wrecks, it's the bricks and the storms.

it's the water, the air, the land and the fire.

I drown, i suffocate, i'm buried and I'm scorched.

I'm slaked, I'm full, I bloom and I bask.

I gasp, yearn, grasp and burn; the crisp, the fresh, the dry and the stern.

I'm in the raging tide, what am I to do?

to fear, to hide, or to bravely ride?

i am in the roaring storm, what am i to do?

to dread, to swarm, or to gallantly conform?

i am on the sinking sand, what am i to do?

to shudder, to withstand, or to valiantly stand?

i am in the blazing flame, what am i to do?

to quiver, to inflame, or to fiercely claim?

I am calm, before that storm i am calm, serene,

before that storm i kneel,

what am i to do?

And then i rage.

i rage and i rage and i rage.

Roaring back, howling, like a star on a stage.

And then The storm is calm, before me that storm is calm, it seals,

before me that storm kneels,

what am i to do? I triumph, or so it seems.

Stillness, silence, oh how i miss the violence.

By the shore i sit, i wonder, oh do i wish to surrender?

The lightning, the thunder, oh how i crave to be under.

By the shore i pine, i ponder, what am i to do?

I become the shore.

I am the shore, braced for your ocean,

craving a grip of the salt and the motion,

oh wreck me with a delicate wave of devotion.

Love is elemental. But is it mental?

To drown or not to drown, that is the question.

But can a shore ever drown?

It's made to swallow the waves, not a single frown,

to gently embrace, to hold its own ground.

But then there's the flood.

The ocean is devoted, merely wants to hug,

wave upon wave and the shore is sludge and mud.

Wave upon wave it hits, calms, cradles and charms, slightly disarms.

To hug back tight, or to flight? That is the question.

To drown or not to drown? That is the question.

To vanish, to dissolve, grain by grain?

Or to replenish, to evolve, to not go in vain?

Amidst the crisis the shore is both sane and insane.

What am i to do? Thus i remain. I retract and refrain.

The wave, the pain? I am of the rain.

Further I crawl.

I crawl and i crawl and i crawl.

The rain, the wave? I am of the cave.

The cold, the stone, a tick and a flame.

A flick and a reframe.

Love is mental, yet it is also temperamental.

Once rough, once gentle. Twice healing, twice detrimental.

The cave is cold, bleak.

Against the stone the blue tears they leak.

Against the stone the orange shadows they sneak.

The flames i hear them crackle, burning logs they reek.

I dig my toes in the damp soil underneath.

Deep, i breathe. I shiver, yet i seethe.

My lungs in the warmth they wreathe.

Eyes wide shut, and then comes your smile.

Your laughter i can hear within a mile.

Your hands on me they trace, they linger, they burn, or is it the fire?

Your hands on my face, ever tender, they yearn, or is it the blazing pyre?

My arms stretch forward, reaching for your hair.

I stroke it, i let my fingers drown in there.

But they burn instead.

The ember larger it blooms and for a moment i fear i am dead.

I long for you, and your fingers, softer, on my face they are led.

And suddenly i am glass.

I melt, a mere molten mass.

I melt, and you mold me, press me in your slumper.

I smelt, and you fuse me, shape me in your structure.

For I am your flamework, an art born of heat.

You cast me, thus i am complete.

The orange shadows they grow, bigger and bigger.

Dancing, as the flames flicker.

The fire huffs air that gets bitter and bitter.

But i soak my lungs in it, i taste it, it's sweeter.

Just like the working fingers on the glass, afraid to make the faintest crack.

With each stroke the flame growls, and startled i jump back.

You pull me closer, you whisper, that i am the finest piece in the pack.

I chuckle. The fire lets out a chuckle.

Then a giggle, a chortle, then a snort, a cackle, a howl and a roar.

Until it can't breathe anymore.

On our oxygen it feasts.

Becomes the greatest of the beasts.

It convulses, then suddenly on us it leans.

A hug, a crumb of affection perhaps it needs?

Or is it a drug, full destruction mayhaps it seeks?

It's lonely, it weeps.

No It's scary, it creeps.

What are we to do?

We quiver, tears run down our cheeks.

We run, gasping, to stay in one piece.

We leap, we stride, grasping that looming thread of peace.

Paler, the shadows.

Outside, it follows.

Blistered, the meadows.

The pastures are jarred, scarred, infinitely marred.

No life left on the land.

We fall to our knees, elbows on the sand.

Sobbing, mourning the haven we once had.

But then we look up, hand in hand.

Locking eyes we stand, we make promises, we fall in love with the land.

Our land.

We roll the dice and we call it paradise.

Our paradise.

We rebuild it, together.

And thus we remain, forever.

As adam and eve, we roam the biome and call it home.

Home bittersweet home.