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
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