The Perfect Storm

She is art I have no capacity to behold,

A palette smeared with colours, bold,

Teeming with secrets, unforeseen and untold.

She is merciless, torrential rain.

Look too close and suffer immeasurable pain,

But stray too far, and all one sees is dismal terrain.

She is chaos in its purest form.

To conventions, she does not conform.

She is, in all essentials, the perfect storm. 

The writer is a student of class 12 at South Breeze School.