I'm not second choice and I'm not even in the choices. I'm marginal like the soft rays of the Sun that penetrates between the heavy clouds on a very cold winter rainy day despite you need them to warm your skin, but they're no longer very important as long as you have on a hefty jacket and cotton sweater.

You remember me when you need me.

My rays are smooth and tender, but I'm still able to burn you in summer. That's how I have two sides. Angelic, but sometimes satanic. You like my catchy wildness but everything become horrific when it exceeds its limit. However, I'm eligible to turn into a beast you won't able to fight.

Never think I'm immortal because I've a power you need to charge. Never mock my silence, my satisfaction of your few love words because I can give up, scratch and hunt then leave.