In Defiance of Time
Only when elegantly dressed does true beauty fully blossom, regardless of the reigning season. But those valuing a beautiful woman as a divine work of art know moments of intimacy have always revealed: the less you wear, the more you are. In open defiance of time, devaluing the eternal splendor of a heavenly muse... is nothing but a crime. Why so many should strive to mar what is frequently seen solely from afar is a tragic testament to the caustic power of human envy. Only by being so widely desired by all is female beauty so often mistreated, silently accompanied by solitude, if not unprofessed sorrow. Even an inspirational muse, forced to abide by impossible standards, should know the folly of succumbing before unrealistic expectations. Striving towards perfection is believing our dreams can come true, while passively accepting imperfection is embracing the prosaic as new. Must life be an eternal competition, arbitrary in judgment and unfair to all, or should beauty be the pristine rendition of those once deemed children of the fall? Self-professed admirers of a still life that never dies, should be sentenced by unbroken mirrors, at least their reflection never lies. Judging a muse solely on the superficial, crassly implies ignoring her inner self, but even a life once deemed artificial... knows a woman should first value herself. Feminine is the splendor requiring great sensibility... to understand no great pretender... deserves its nobility. Since complimenting another first requires revealing yourself, a man´s rendition of female beauty... first denudes his own self. What must one possess... when choosing to glorify... an ephemeral noblesse that should never die? Is there any sense... in conveying whom you really are, if a man's own defense is being seen only from afar? No man who has seen the light should ever be forced to embrace the darkness, blindness is not a right for those avoiding eternal starkness. Untimely is the death, offering absolutely no rest, for a woman holding every breath even when so elegantly dressed. A beauty that is eternal defies the strictures of time, avoiding the infernal as an unconscionable crime. If to love is to remember each moment deemed as tender, then one must first recall the true reasons for the fall. Must every capital sin be a burning temptation, or can we finally begin to cherish God's Creation? A valiant man extolling life, while time is at hand, believes no deserving wife fails her true heart to command. Only admiration that survives the passing of years... enriches our lives despite the impertinence of tears. Though physical is the beauty that first entices our eyes, every man has the duty of seeing past its disguise. Those caring to tread... the meandering ways into a woman´s heart... should only consider her lines as read... if also valued from the start. Life is sometimes tragic in how beauty never rhymes with the prepubescent magic of a love defying time. The most profound verities, that so often rule our lives, bear very few similarities with a love that never dies. It should only be tragic that those least fascinated with life... are precisely the ones never experiencing the sublime. So if my time is over... this is my last chance to confess: no hostile takeover can this lover so violently oppress! If the end of beauty is the end of time, love has the duty to be married in rhyme. So much in life always stands in our way, no man loves his wife merely for a day. In defiance of time, and unvanquished by fears, no true beauty in its prime... dies with the passing of years!