Oxymoron

She was a walking inferno.

Fire, trapped within the confines of a human body,

And temper seethed beneath a molten surface.

But calm eyes hid her rage,

A temperate smile betrayed the flames.

She couldn’t hurt a soul.

Small hands that happily turned the pages of a book,

And the silent feet that carried her through the library.

She was a walking glacier.

Ice, frozen within the form of a human body,

And calmness emanated behind a chilled surface.

But calm eyes could not hide her rage,

A wicked smile betrayed the same.

She was deadly in that way.

Small hands that willingly wielded knives,

And the silent feet that carried her through the night.

She was a walking oxymoron.

Oh, the fire of her hair matched her spirit if you knew her.

And the ice of her eyes matched her demeanor if you did not.

But a gentle face hid raw rage,

A soft voice betrayed screams of fury.