Of all our sleek gargoyles,
our Void-born masquerade,
how to honor the one who volunteered willingly,
knowing the truth?
Whose little act of courage -
twinkled like a petty Ayatan,
before our golden indifference?
And Nihil cried: "Glass her, for her presumption!"
Until the arches rang with laughter.
So be it.
I shall encase you in crystal most fine.
That the purity of your stigmatization
might shard the sunlight itself.
The unbroken.
Gara.