Like the scars that bear her soul, the emotions she controls as the actors in an endless game of chance. Like the fragments in a mirror, while the tears of fate that steer her As the shards of light perform their hapless dance. The Geometry of facial recognition is the mission of her ever driven, never ending, stare. Like a mirage o’er the desert of white sand with every effort Her ice mask hides all the times she tried to care. As a tear now fully forming on a cheek so glossed and warming Shows reality. A trait so pure, so rare.