It cannot produce the warmth of life.
Weighted down by the world and its troubles.
All that brush against it will walk away torn.
Impenetrable to even the most blunt of forces.
Unchanged by that which surrounds it.
Dead; just a collection of matter.
SHATTERED BY LIGHT- BEHOLD THE UNDERNEATH.
Sonshine cultivates the life produced
Free from burdens because another has taken them
Bending to absorb the force of what once opposed it.
Allowing the influence of the outside
Tears, laughter, pain
Alive; a collection of stories.