A volcano....................
My veins extends beneath the Earth, My hands raised toward the sky, I can seem to live forever, Though many times I die. I cry when I am wounded, Sweet tears that help me heal, I mourn and take off all my clothes, When bitterness I feel. What am I?
Of the god’s own sorrow and tears i can create life. Then i provide my creation with fire to allow for growth and prosperity. But the vengeance of the gods is due and I will surely fall. In the coldness of the night, the life I created only finds death. What am i?
I come out of the earth; I am sold in the market. He who buys me cuts my tail, takes off my suit of silk, and weeps beside me when I am cut. What am I?
