"He who creates a poison, also has the cure,
"He who creates a virus, also has the antidote,
"He who creates chaos, also has the ability to create peace.
"He who sparks hate, also has the ability to transform it to love,
"He who creates misery, also has the ability to destroy it with kindness,
"He who creates sadness, also has the ability to to covert it to happiness,
"He who creates darkness, can also be awakened to produce illumination,
"He who spreads fear, can also be shaken to spread comfort,
"Any problems created by the left hand of man,
"Can also be solved with the right,
"For he who manifests anything,
"Also has the ability to
"Destroy it."

― Suzy Kassem

"Once upon a time, there was Chaos. In this Chaos the line between two opposing things was blurred yet they were still opposites. The difference between darkness and light was so obviously there yet it was gray.

"In this Chaos, there was no such thing as an ending yet there was no exact beginning, it was a void, an abyss, and could Create. So there was Creation and Energy. There was Life and Death. Yet it was not complete So it was in this Chaos that Order was born.

"Order was...Chaos's opposite. Structural, complete. There was a beginning and an end, but so very boring. Everything Chaos was supposed to not be.

"Yet, they were so startlingly alike.

"Order was a version of Chaos that Chaos had not known, Chaos was a version of Order that Order could not know. They were everything the other was not, and everything the other could be. Yet, alone, they just were, for nothing could ever be complete without its contrasting partner. Its very opposite.

"Together though, well together they were infinite, never ending, always beginning.

"Together there was Purpose. Without Purpose, Life could not be, without Purpose, there was no Death. Chaos created, Order gave it structure, but together they had made Purpose.

"The thing called Life could finally Live and Begin, the thing called Death would End and Die. "

A small voice called out,

"Madre?"

A woman paused in her story and looked down at a child, her child.

"Yes my little piccolo?"

"Wh-what is my Purpose?"

The woman tilted her head inquisitively. Urging him to clarify his question. His mother stared down at him, acknowledging the question yet seeming to not answer, he grew intimidated. So he curled closer and mumbled a small,

"Nevermind."

"No no, continue my il piccolo."

"Like, everything has an Purpose, right? So what is my Purpose in life, what is my Opposite?"

She smiled warmly at him.

"That, that is something only you can find out, but let me tell you this, you are you no matter what happens, mia il piccolo."

In that moment she could see a sort of determination in her son's eyes. They gleamed with satisfaction, glad that he felt satisfied she started running her fingers through his hair.

"Madre?"

"Si?"

"I want to be someone who makes chaos. Lots of chaos!"

"Piccolo, you can make as much chaos as you want. Just be sure you share with me, alright?"

"Si!"

Then she started to tickle him. Making her child gasp for mercy, chocking with laughter. Then she cuddled him some more as she finally stopped.

"Ah, mia il piccolo."

️

A man stood on a small hill, holding a large bouquet of chrysanthemum flowers. He kneeled down and placed the flowers next to a large stone. Lowering his head and placing it right next to a name carved onto the stone. Sighing softly he spoke,

"Madre, I miss you."

(A/U's Note...again)

Um, the mother's a mist. That should explain the sketchy beginning.