The sharpest mind is like a blade,
the kindest soul a flower.
The meekest man is like a lake,
The most steadfast a boulder.
And the bravest - he's a leaf,
that floats above reality on the wind.

Death rides upon the wings of the wind,
Life dances on the blade.
Choice lies in petals of the flower,
Reflections stare into the lake.
Determination builds the largest boulder,
and not every breeze carries away a leaf.

Without the tree there is no leaf,
nor gale without the wind.
The forge's fire sculpts the blade,
the soil holds still the flower.
Not every puddle makes a lake,
nor every stone a boulder.

There is no protecting a boulder,
no way to grow for the leaf.
Breathing doesn't help the wind,
nor notching help the blade.
Life itself will kill the flower,
and the sun will dry the lake.

More than water dwells in the lake,
and many layers form a boulder.
Each tree gives life to a different leaf,
more than air rides on the wind.
More than iron makes the blade,
and each field bears a different flower.

Petal games kill the flower,
skipping rocks distorts the lake.
Pressure can break a boulder,
The Winter kills each leaf.
And strong walls block out the wind,
As strong mail repels the sword.

But can you know, if blade is stronger, or boulder?
Can you measure if the flower lives longer, or the leaf?
No. For air doesn't destroy the lake, nor water deter the wind.