I change with the seasons.
I may be bright, balmy like the eternally sunshine-warmed days of summer.
I may be sugary sweet like spring, pink and rich with new life and smelling of all the foliage that will be soon to blossom.
I may use ice to viscously rip your skin into confetti, or simply wither and die like all that occurs during wintertime.
Or maybe I will cry heavy rainstorms like autumn, and attempt to kill all that dares to live in my wilting presence.
