Crafted glistening white like fresh snow, Unblemished, seamless, symmetrical; I was whole. 'Til catastrophe fell; assaulted and damaged My body, but for all its vehemence, could not hurt my soul. Shaken, and broken, I picked up the pieces; This carcass, an assemblage of remnants, wouldn't hold. 'Tis then when my soul, a force of sheer will, Conjured mortar from stardust, and bound my body in gold. From hideous perfection, to glorious imperfection, I hurt, learned, and built myself anew; only to be broken again. 'C'est la vie' I thought, and put my spirit to work. This time, paid its weight in platinum as bind, was my pain. Now I wait, for the storm bells to toll again. For ring loud and proud they will, 'tis providence. Let them come I say, for cataclysms will wreak carnage. To my unshakable soul, my rebirth in stardust will be evidence.