Within me dances hidden light, a shifting glow of colors bright. Though pale at first, I gleam with fire, October’s gemstone of soft desire.

What kind of nut has no shell? There is a minimum character requirement

I speak in notes but have no tongue, My songs are played, not ever sung. Through wood or brass or tightened thread, I give each note its voice instead.

Built to defend, to stand, to fight, with walls that hold through day and night.

I glide on winter’s silver skin, yet also haunt the ocean floor. One self is steel that sings on ice, the other spreads its wings to soar.