Sometimes it shows its face. Familiar. Comfortable. Unwanted. Or perhaps it is. What is it that kindles that old flame. Which fuels the forges of creativity, and destruction. For do not both coexist? Through the destruction of a star comes a new solar system. From the ashes of a volcano new green can be seen.
Perhaps all it wants is its outlet so that the pressure does not grow so strong as to rupture its container.
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