The crucible was a battle fought by two sinners both likely to sell the other out or to shoot one another. One wore a necklace of tight inlaid shininess and red. It was laced with a satin bow and imbedded with an insignificant little ruby tied around her neck, her lovely ringlets hid in the sunshine. She knew her life was sacred. Mostly she was right, but christened in her own right, it was never suggested to her that there was any other way around. The darker side was originally ambivalent to the nature of the afflicted golden ringlets. Thrashing and fighting it, he, the darkness, was finally struck with love. The ambivalent subsided beneath the imaginary plinth he prayed at, and there he prayed. Retorted only through silence as most gods do, God responded. Each time the ambivalent shook and chattered his teeth as his fears were becoming all so real. Waiting to hear a sound And nothing was there. He understood the emptiness. He was truly suffering, but ultimately obliged to the goodness of every single perfect ringlet that made up the womanβs hair. He knew the repercussions of going on in other fashions, and chose instead to end it there before he had her locked in all their passions.