Tradition says paper, thin and feeble.
Delicate and new, it should embody the whole
Of one year. One year of synchronized heartbeats,
Sweat, pain and sweet, sweet tenderness.
I feel it in my core, once full of lead; heavy and
Guarding, that we are gold. Soft and malleable,
There is nothing we cannot withstand. Soft and
Malleable there is nothing we can do but wait,
Wait for the promises and the heartaches of the
Future. Soft and malleable, with love-swirled
Iron we can survive, Tradition says paper, thin
And Feeble. Souls, entangled heartstrings and
Painful, beautiful love scream Gold! Iron!
Soft, malleable, for eternity.