The Faulted Splendour

A beauty so mesmerizing,

Cloaking over all the trauma,

To know the truth so agonizing,

That the writer doth left a comma.

Every being beeth flawed,

The globe innately faulted.

The shell may have received laud,

For every crack was ever vaulted.

 In a world not whole,

Packed with cracks and crevices,

The broken men's ole,

Is made perfection's nemesis