An Icicle

A sense of what? A sense of belief. A belief in the way that snow falls on the leaf.

A belief in the way an icicle melts, but immediately refreezes.

Simply extending, growing, becoming ancient despite just being created. 

An icicle is seconds ticking by; an icicle is tears that a stiff tree cries.

An icicle is a razor, dangerous and cold, freezing to touch but twinkling like gold.

We are powerless as we surrender, and melt to the noxious beat of the rhyme.

But an icicle melts and freezes, recklessly careless of exterior forces of time.