My speech is colourless and aromaless
until I get irate.
My personality is a dancing hurricane
I lock in a crate.
It’s not a twister that launches houses
into a cruel sea.
It’s the ultimate sky surfer’s paradise,
oddly death free.
Some think I am boring and lethargic
others can see me.
Too many are fixated on the surface
and blind to below.
They mistake guesses for knowledge,
so tired myths grow.