i gather these fragments lying
on my palm, blowing a faint
wish into the gaps of the shining
glass, shattered but yet not broken;
i raise my prayer towards the
morning sun and chant a silent oath.
and as the boiling furnace melts and
burns the hardened shreds into
crystal goblets of fortified lava,
i tuck it close to my heart,
reforging them into something
only i can wield, something
i will be able to dedicate this treasure
to another vessel of my heaven,
to another hell i have yet to experience before.
