Beauty

Beauty comes from within. That’s what half the world knows. From the inside out, experts say. I seek true beauty. I admire her because she inspires me. Over time, she changes, and she always entertains me wherever she is. Observing her enchantingly, but at the same time, envying her. I have her, and I know it, although she is always lacking and never enough. I don’t know how you manage a god’s whims. Beauty is a blessing, as well as an actual curse. The bravest witness her as they defeat those who cursed her.

The true purpose of beauty is that she forgives easily. She does not look at mistakes because they do not exist. Every imperfection seems perfect again. Beauty does not judge, she only gives you her soul so you can draw what you desire. In beauty, you do not find ugliness, because she does not know her. It is only an idea.

Beauty scares. Perhaps she is the enemy of a life with achievements, because he chases her to take everything back. He takes for granted what she borrows.

They sell her in the bonds of some papers, a comfort, a longing to acquire more. They buy beauty where they don’t have her, so they believe, thinking she’s easily thrown away. Ugliness. For some, she’s an entrance to a desired place. For others, she drives them away. Usually, the beautiful ones enter. If not, you stay there. God is punishing you. He made you ugly, so we punish you too.

Find a way to beautify her. Products cover her up, dreams are centered on fraud. Creators of a perfect image that exists only in fairy tales. To look a little beautiful. A perfect lie. I hide mine. Don’t let the evil eye harm her. I pretend I deserve her, but I know she will be lost in time.

She is a gift, she is a curse. Barbarians long for her, dances and orgies honor her existence. She dreams and creates great things. She is a talent that yearns to be seen. Different in every place. White, black, red. Take advantage of her. She changes course and manner, thin, round, colorful. Immortalized in an image, a sculpture, or a line. I remember her for many years, yet she’s not worn out. Everyone now knows that beauty dominates.

Monsters. Now, real admirers are rare. Few rejoice in her, while many harm her. They insult her. Peasants want her, and they throw at her without hesitation. They have easily learned to give her away, so she is simply sold off. She takes what she wants. They do not want to see her, nor possess her, nor even give her away. Formless. Real peasants eat her, tear her apart, spit out the bones of ugliness. They make her disappear, as they want everyone to become uglier. They dishonor her. They do not really want her until they are satisfied, and the world is more terrible.

Sold beauty, we are made up of ugly souls, which destroy the purest as soon as they are born.

So there is nothing left. Someday she will wear out. She remains a memory that can no longer be forgotten. Many hide her, so no one finds her and shames her. I hide her, too. I am not beautiful at all. Only superficially, and that sometimes wears off as time passes, but she always finds a way to come back. She seduces you, enchants you. And you always know there is danger with her.

Let her shine. Don’t hide her or underestimate her. Maybe she will appear. Maybe you will win her. But don’t buy her, thinking you haven’t already found her.

Created by Diana Chemeris

Story in Greek: https://fairytalesmaybereal.blogspot.com/?zx=26b9ebe6703507df