My first two is the self, simple and true. My last four sharpens, refining anew. Between rests a hollow, an empty divide, Yet whole, I can carry one voice far and wide.

Remove my first letter and admire the beauty, Remove my third letter and ignore the lack of taste, Remove my fourth letter and avoid getting stuck

A tale in four parts told, a would be father rushing through a door, asking direction, seeking advice, standing by a mother who wouldn't be.

I spark with just a single swipe, I wait in piles when forests are dry, Some seek love, some seek a flame, Different faces, but one same name

Forwards, I'm an act of art With lines and shading I appeal Backwards, I'm a safeguard An occult or mystic shield