Glass I hold before me in my morbid mortal hand, a beauty so divine, a fragment of god rarely seen by man. It's infinite wonder has sent humanity searching for this glowing warmth all their lives. Yet now when I stare deeper into the void of light, all I see now is a dimming end that interests me no more. It's slips from my hand and shatters like glass and not even a tear escapes my eye. Am I truly a child of god if not even a fragment of the divine does not entertain my mortal mind?
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