It began undivided; it was the light of life -- and light shines by its own brilliance. Then, for a reason not given, this was no longer enough. Not that it was not, but now... a belief. The light did a strange thing, it tried to contain itself in a single form so it could be seen -- Because the rays of light that illumine beauty are invisible in themselves. So the light made a hole in space and began to pour itself in. "they return to that fire which feedeth on their own souls." This imprisoned energy become matter, now tied to a time and place but no longer able to shine. It could only become known by absorbing the light of others: reflecting back what it could no longer give. A light that was free, unkept, poured itself into a hole that it might be known. But now it cannot grasp its purpose. Life, somehow, does not seem right. It polishes the bars... but something is wrong.