All the cracks inside lined with gold, sewn back together with shining white thread.
And there are too many to even begin counting.
Some cracks bigger than others
Thin lines
Jagged edges
Rough patches
Some scars so deep, he can still feel them burning
He feels himself healing along with him, but he does this unconsciously
He focus on these cracks
This soul has been bent
damaged
torn
shattered
ripped out
and shoved back in
He can feel its pain
Though its owner knows none of this
Still, Ezekiel thinks, as he continues on his work, it is a beautiful soul.