Poetry: Tame

Mostly it is dormant
Lying in the corner somewhere
But there are times
When it is a baby dragon
Spitting off fire
All chaos
The graceful mature honed being- a potential actuality.
It rears its not-so-ugly head in the most inopportune of times
Just when you start making peace with it
Peace with the fact that it is a part of you
Not something overwhelming
Not something which defines you
Just when you start believing that there is much more.
That is when the trigger goes off
And you try to douse the fire, control it, tame it.
But to no avail.
You can only wait for it to become dormant again.

by Anaan

Photo from http://hellothetruethoughts.tumblr.com/

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