Unnamed

In a land where frostwind chants its sway,
Where icicles dance and stars portray,
A tale unfolds of flint so bold,
And charcoal's touch, a story to be told.

Ice, a glimmering King with his regal grace,
Casting a spell with her chilling embrace.
She paints the world in a shimmering hue,
A frozen enchantment that's oh so true.

But deep in the caves, a fire resides,
Where shadows lurk and darkness hides.
There dwells a flint, cold and serene,
A challenger to ice, an opposing theme.

With sparks that fly, like stars in the night,
The flint ignites a fiery might.
Its edges sharp, like a warrior's blade,
Burning through the darkness it has made.

Charcoal, the ember of the flint's command,
Aided by heat, as they take a stand.
Creating warmth, where ice once thrived,
A balance of elements, to survive.

Ice and flint, so different, yet the same,
In their essence, they both lay claim.
To power and strength, in opposing ways,
Captivating the land, where winter's haze stays.

From frozen kingdoms to fiery hearts,
Their tale ripples through nature's arts.
For ice and flint, like yin and yang,
Are forever entwined, a poetic clang.

So let the ice flint sparkle afar,
A beacon of hope, like a shining star.
With charcoal's touch, it finds its voice,
A symphony of elements, rejoice!