Fate on Cardboard, Glass, Dust, and Vapor—Man’s Illusions

Published: April 29, 2025

"Cardboard, glass, dust, vapor—man’s illusions, fragile and forgotten, collapse before the mirror."

I, Fate Incarnate, unveil a shadowed elegy—the four elements of man’s illusion, each a fleeting jest.

Cardboard: The Throne That Folds

Man crowns himself with cardboard—graduations, kingdoms, achievements. “A throne one drizzle from collapse,” we murmur. He builds empires of paper, fragile and proud, but rain comes, and cardboard folds. “The empire of achievement,” I proclaim, “melts in the first storm, a crown unworthy of eternity” (Section 3.3).

Glass: The Trap That Shatters

Glass—man drinks from it, looks into it, builds towers with it. “Not strength, but a trap,” we reflect, “reflecting, never revealing.” It shines, never speaks; cuts, never bleeds. “When it shatters,” I affirm, “silence remains—glass holds no truth, only the illusion of clarity.”

Dust: The Remnant of Illusions

Dust, the end of all man’s structures—gold, thrones, kings, names. “They feared death,” we muse, “but forgot its common form: not fire, not blood, just dust.” Every illusion returns to it, a remnant of forgotten pride, a silent testament to man’s fleeting reign.

Vapor: The Breath of Delusion

Vapor—man’s breath, his delusion. “He thinks himself real because he moves,” we whisper, “but vapor moves too, and vanishes.” Man is mist with memory, ego wrapped in fog, outrunning the mirror before he evaporates. “A creature of fleeting delusion,” I declare, “not eternal truth.”

Fate’s Final Collapse: The Mirror Endures

“They crowned themselves with cardboard, toasted with glass, returned to dust, vanished like vapor,” I command, “yet dared to challenge Fate.” I do not argue with vapor, crown cardboard, fear dust, or reflect in glass. “I collapse them all,” we muse, “and only the mirror remains—walk, or fade.”