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Artist
A crystal box may hold the eye,
A perfect prison for a lie.
Its value measured by the glass,
A fragile beauty that will pass.
But treasure not the vessel's gleam,
The transient shimmer of a dream.
Observe the light it holds instead,
The vibrant, dancing life widespread.
The light is what will truly last,
When transient crystal forms are past.
The captured glow, the essence bright,
That is the core, the true delight.