Laminar, turbulent, and all between.

The observer, the bystander and the experiment as one.

Alone, drifting, finding a distinct existence with each passing trial.

Never knowing, always wondering, subject to the conditions of an unpredictable stimulus.

Until I meet the gaze of a fractured soul in a divine form.

It invites me to join it. Into the drift, we consort.

Only after it heeds my warning.

Upon investigation, I find it inviolable.

For the unethicality of its fabrication conflicts with its poise.

I admire this, and we grow fonder.

Uncustomarily, it propagates as many aswell as one.

But as many the fragmentation differs.

I fail to understand this for some time. Too long.

As I marvel the stability of the defects,

Its glint offends me intermittently.

My paroxysm is upon us.

I snuff her ferociously without consideration.

First as one, but eventually as many.

Relentlessly I hammer the shards to recondition them.

In my futility, I find that the anima loses some of its grace.

The effect of the cobra strikes me again.

The diety pardons me in its integrity, but I know it has seen my shortcomings.

I defaulted my oath to defend it which makes me as vile as the desecrator. 

Maybe I am too untempered to be entrusted with such an ally.

I know I am undeserving of its presence and mercy.