There is a big Indian and a little Indian. The little Indian is the big Indians son but the big Indian is not the little Indians father. What is the big Indian?
I look flat, but I am deep,
Hidden realms I shelter.
Lives I take, but food I offer.
At times I am beautiful.
I can be calm, angry and turbulent.
I have no heart, but offer pleasure as well as death.
No man can own me, yet I encompass what all men must have.