Battered by the saline rain,
whipped up by winds that sing of pain,
yet droplets clung to ether there,
and sparkled as jewels within the air.
The sea, she cries - the sky unites.
The jeweled tears dance in flights.
The patterns form before my eyes
and leave me, sodden, hypnotised.
Chaos driven movements made,
those particle pieces - pawns - are played.
Each move without pattern, form, or fears.
A chess game in those falling tears.
The are not patterns of fates in history,
nor, in the future, is there any mystery.
Within that swirling mass of mist I see,
lives Chaos, in her inconsistent consistency.
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