A silent choir with golden tongues, each sings without a breath. Their faces chase a fleeing flame, yet shun the dark. A spiral puzzle guards our core, as I am one yet many more a sun-bound soul, well dressed.

I dance with no feet, I lick with bright tongues, I feed on the fallen, yet vanish when done. I am born in a ring, yet I’m wild at heart, tamed for your stories when daylight departs.

I carry no legs, yet I travel with you, holding your secrets and spare change too. I'm zipped or I'm snapped, I swing or I cling, but Inside me, you’ll find almost everything.

In circles I roll, yet never a wheel, I clash with my kin in a glassy ordeal. Flicked by fingers with skill and might, I’m claimed or lost in a dirty-ring fight.

I wield the sea with mighty grace, three sharp fingers, one strong face. In a god’s grip, I rule the tide, with every wave, the oceans glide. I’m not a utensil for food or feast, but in my hands, the storm’s unleashed.