The Beauty

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Early sun rays kissed her soft cheeks
Blushed radiantly as happiness peak
Flaring velvet pleats in her skirt
Danced to the happy beat of the fresh breeze

Sprinkled the scent
Calling for the guests
Charmed with love
When visited by a handsome hunt

Cheering as rain falls
Softening her skin
Smiling, feeling blessed
Forgetting the thorns in herself

Fear enters her soul
As dark clouds veil the light
Life is to enjoy
Why bother, she thinks

Exhausted she is
Hides in her dome
Resting for the day
Expecting to bloom for another day

The sun glows
The wind blows
The day begins
With a new hope

But she stands there lonely and lost
Memories strike of her glamorous past
Life isn’t sweet at all
Indeed it is short

It hasn’t taken time to wilt her beauty
She watches with grief
The handsome dukes
Adoring the other beauties

With realization she stares up at sky
Feeling grateful for the atmosphere
For bearing her still, though withered she was
Illusion it has been where she lost herself throughout her life…


I imagined of a red rose as I wrote this while I wanted one meaning to be simple as it says throughout the poem. But the real meaning behind this poem,

Poem doesn’t only speak of a red rose and a similar life spent by a woman who seek pleasure in pleasing and attracting men. But it is a poem which speaks of the term love. Love is like a rose. It blooms and fades. Painful it is sometimes as the thorns of the rose pricks now and then yet we forget the soonest and share love forgetting the pains. It spreads fragrance expressing the happiness of life when it is filled with love yet there’s a time that it fades and dies.
When we are been loved we forget the hard times in life. We know there should be an end to this life, the love life. But we forget the reality and live as we never face that truth. One day or another, the love is going to expire yet we intentionally forget and fall in love with people around us. Except for the love of Allah, everything else is an illusion.
Love here is about everything. No love can be put on to same scale. A mother’s love and a wife’s love are different. Yet the one who have fallen in love with the people they love witness a change of love when a new bond is blossomed. A wife’s love for her husband is unchanged when she becomes a mother. But she keeps steps to another phase that her love takes another form as well. A mother’s love for her children is equal yet there are moments that it doesn’t get expressed in the same manner.

How to measure love?The Journal

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