the world melts with the sun
every morning at sunrise
melts under the heat of golden rain
but when the sun goes down
and the liquid world cools, solidifies
the renaissance begins
and every night
a whole new world is created
a mysterious world
one night, the world created had no greed
and wind was as real as wood beneath the figertips
because they appreciated their surroundings for more than their worth
another night, the world formed into nothing but one mountain
with millions of people who had no method of communication
besides varying the twinkle in their eye
yet they were happier than we have ever been
every morning, a world melts
every night, a world is born