They say that the same sun that melts the ice,
Hardens the clay. One spectacle, one star,
One to bless, one to mar, virtue and vice,
At the same artifice, shows who you are.
One will give up his shape in the bright rays,
How could he not? A heart of frost meeting,
The sun’s shiny greeting is overcome,
His shape and his self were always fleeting.
The other hardens and clings to his shape,
None can mold him, his resolute armor,
Will always honor his first form innate,
And will bake in scourge of day with ardor.
My prayer is that you would be water,
Fearless to lose yourself in awe of the majestic sun.