I discovered her in a single moment of bravery.

She is thought cast in a vassal of glass.

I wonder if I’m worthy to look upon her.

My hands alone know her weightlessness.

Her potential is that of the glorious prism,

endlessly shifting and changing and new.

Through her magnificent form of being,

all light grows infinitely brighter.

Within her graceful figure,

all is rendered pale.

Beautiful,

but brittle.

As fragile as she is,

I am her vigilant guardian.

I will follow all I know of patience.

For if I let her slip from my heart’s grasp,

I cannot stand to see this moment slip away.

She, is the visage of all that is humble in me.

How do I hold this of all my great moments?

What mysteries will time bestow its bearer?

How am I to I stop the flow of time itself?

For the sands of this moment must come to rest.

           —Id.