It used to be holy.
A perfect moment of silence and renewal.
A time of mischief, feeling like you've won.
Then, a warning. A risk taken.
Looking at pain with your nose against the glass.
Feeling like you've lost.
It was holy then too.
Then the thing faded, left behind an empty tank.
And the moment empty too.
No weight, no power.
Just another curtain parted to reveal the future.
And it's still holy.