Beauty

And He looked at me with those strange Eyes
Seeing Beauty
And He looked at me with those strange Eyes
He saw beauty in the form of health
Like a jewel, like a jewel inpenatrable
His Eyes that shine, and penetrate the discourse of lies
That have inbeded this dry, dusty life.
Oh, and if I loved him back so truthfully
I would stop this vulgarity and those excuses
These simply plotted excuses to not reveal myself.
And if I loved him back so vehemently, and I do,
I would not, will not, be the cause of his distress.
I would not be everything that he did not think of me,
For now he probably knows not what to think,
Only to be confused by One who he had so fondly adored.
So now I let my mantle down and swear I was too selfish to see;
How beautiful he is,
How much I love him,
And more so than any of my needs.
And more deeply sorry for and of his distress.
In those Eyes and in that life, there is, and he is, Beauty.