Some call it vile.

Some long for it.

Some hate on it.

Some have fallen in love with it.

It’s all the same thing and yet it comes in different ways and perspectives.

It’s the same word but has different meaning to different people.

Sometimes it beats you down.

Sometimes it raises you higher then the clouds.

It’s a burden and yet an assistance.

It sweeps in with the tide and rolls out with the wind.

It exploding in mid air, surprising you but you knew it was coming soon.

It taunts.

It saves.

It’s heals.

It wounds.

It’s a sharp silver knife, and yet a calm soft water.

When it approaches you can’t help but cry.

For it comforts the lonely.

But when it settles you’ll find your self laughing.

For it brings joy to the exuberant.

Silence can’t help but come toward us, for its curiosity always gets the better of it.

It can come off as playful, but deep down it’s broken.

It can come off as broken, but deep down is playful.

How way you want to see it really.

A fire.

Or a hose.

A bark.

Or a bite.

A laugh.

Or a tear.

A heat.

Or ice.

It all depends on how you look at it.

It depends on your past.

It depends on your character.

And if you want it to last.

But in the end it’s all the same.

It doesn’t have a different name.

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