The delicacy of  glass makes me want to break it, shatter it with my bare palms; to feel the pain of being broken... seeing the red mass drip to the floor, like the petals of a red  rose scattering as if the wind blows..

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   To make the wind blow so hard that  tree's shake with fear, the sky turns dark and pelts the earth with heavy rain drops, and crystal tears glow on the tree tops...