Karl (louderback) wrote,


Dedicated to the one who knows


Ruined Beauty sits enthroned,
alive behind her eyes.
Ravaged by cruel circumstance,
not ever will she rise

She can't raise her hand to mine,
nor can she ever smile.
On her throne she sits bereft,
and softly sighs at whiles.

She'll not raise her hand to give
my face a soft caress —
never press her lips to mine —
nor on my shoulder rest.

Ruined she, by unkind fate,
her limbs obey her not.
Her body, a betrayer,
condemns her to her lot.

Once we laughed, we danced, we sang,
our lives a merry whirl.
Then came an evil on us
that took away our world.

Now my ravaged Beauty sits,
confined upon her throne.
Within her body, still alive,
but 'prisoned and alone.

I can't share the life she lives
but I can share my own.
I give to her my own life
that she might feel at home.

As time works its ravages,
upon her helpless frame,
I see her age encroaching,
I see her dying flame.

Her hair, first white, now greying,
is thin and oh so fine,
Her skin once pure as snowdrifts
Is wrinkled, without shine.

Her smile, once a cupid's bow,
is now a ragged gash.
Her hands once fit for sculpture
seem claws that want to slash.

Her body lithe and supple
is spare and hard as bone.
The smooth bare feet on which she danced
now seem as rough as stone.

This she has become at last
a wizened, aging crone.
To all eyes but mine she is
a sight best left alone.

But Beauty's still bewitched me
and I can see her still
Dancing tall and whirling fast
and hear her laughter trill.

My eyes just can't see her so.
My ears will never hear
the weeping of my dear lost love.
To me, she is still here.

I see the beauty of her face.
I hold her to me close.
The woman I have always loved
will not, to me, be lost.

Her inner vision's glorious,
her spirit brightly sings.
I know her heart still is brave
and that her soul has wings.


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