The sunset that men praise for its glorious calm
Faraway is indeed a spectacle
A vermilion mural on downy clouds
But look up close, search for its reality
‘Tis only flame and gas framed by grandiose vapor
The world will worship the face of a woman
One that is masterfully veneered
A contrived form of beauty
But despite all attempts, all feigned excellence
The body is still mere, imperfect skin and blood
So wherein does the beauty lie?
In reality or perception?
Do we choose to ignore the truth
And accept only synthesized imagination?
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Many have said this is true
But I think the beholder should oft look closer
To determine the virtue of the beheld
To appraise the worth of the element
Rather than the artistry of its mask
Copyright © Bethany Richardson 2012