Through the wreckage (Some glory just might...)

Through the wreckage,
before it was sorted and cleared,
Those blinding mysterious gold flecks appeared,
And seemed in the sun to be glittery bright,
as if in this horror, some glory just might
defy what had happened; was happening, in spite
of everything ashen and blackened. My sight
Was captured by something defying to glow
through all I had thought had been killing me slow.
And though they were tiny, and scattered apart,
That beauty broke through what was breaking my heart.