Somewhere amidst their jagged peace,
lies the heart of what whispers cannot speak.
A crystalline deceit encased in sediment,
carving echoes from folly's embrace.
Gentle lies shimmer under the ugliest truths,
reeling not from light, but the absence thereof.
When the hands unveil the torment of roots,
shedding not tears, but luminous despair.
Each fragment a memory saver, untouched,
until the heaviest wind whispers its sin.
Gaze becomes shattered like shadows awakening at dawn,
haunted yet by the true vibrant void.