To curse the sun begs the clouds to differ.
Harness the wind, and the sky often whispers.
A side feeling ways and a touch to go stiffer.
A bite of the lemon would surely stay bitter.

To hide the truth asks the holes to dig deeper.
A cynical man loses out to the sleeper.
Force all the colour, and the grey is a feature.
A taste of the honey won't get any sweeter.

To tug a string sees the seam crunch tighter.
A sleeve too short, and a half-empty lighter.
A coward's life is longer, than that of a fighter.
Gnaw on the spice, as it burns like a fire.