Empty is the flame, for all that it consumes. Eyes burn bright for sacrifice, when nothing gets reused. Never dimmed are diamonds that are tossed in funeral pyres, though their masters and their lovers are left with useless wires. Sleight of hand and silent bands play nothing but deceit, while cleanliness and godliness are naught but empty feats. You thought you held some brilliance, nay you thought you were sublime, but nothing comes from sentience when nothing is implied.