Jester Of Diamonds

Carnival of Venice Mask Parade Illustration

I appear to be a most-fragile thing, The coveted prize of any great king; And still, there’s little that can break me. All that pressure but serves to make me; The weight of the world upon me lies, buried in the dark, far from men’s eyes. My old self-nothing but blackest coal, Yet here to remain, be not the goal.

Worthy am I of the toil in finding, The symbol of love made true and binding. When I am pulled from the belly of the night. None can equal my reflection of light. Steel bars I can cut. Jail doors stay not shut, for I was made, to prove love’s greatest might.

What am I?