prose 2 - beauty

Beauty

It is no more than a look, the passion burning in the ace of the unknown creates dynamic for the beholder. Beauty, nevertheless is the most up warding through the hybrid mortification that drives the human to become more legitimate on the unfair matter. Morphine is what beauty gives with, solely true in the bizarre supernova creation that let every single of gender to describe them through the affection of desire and lust. Beauty is naked and obscene creature, it gives an utmost mesmerize and even abstractly fall in love. Full in enough beauty is the most killable oblivious mortal in changing mind through the lust of soul.

Yes, indeed soul has lust for it to survive, the lust for searching the ethereal comforters, the lust for searching the innate desire, the lust for searching the last long enigma. Which shines the effervescent shrubbery of reverie, with neither haze nor wind blew the gulp of ambience for sentient to grow, shines the emotions to a fresh hope, describes the love OF beauty.

Beauty won’t limit the beholders and prescribers, beauty is gay and beauty is fey. The flay journey that beauty takes into the world of unknown – clairvoyance drowned the insider to be faded in greenery mode. No soul could implicate in the light of the weighty beauty. Haters and lovers meet in the bridge of beauty to fond with the lust of beauty in the eyes of the nemesis. The bona fide beauty is yet to be the freezer of all indulgence makers certainly to challenge human and creator’s beauty as a verdant covetousness. To be what a sanction could do is therefore undeniable.

Beauty shed the life to be a furious mist that fins beneath the alley of Eden. Not to be enlighten but to be engraved by the beauty itself which abloom the desire of being abashed by the harlot beauty. Beauty is to describe the hindsight of the ruthless malignant affliction of the soul. It calms and it comforts, drown us like down in the milestone, full of life-sapping, avid and spread us zephyr. That is beauty in the beauty that owns us sacred of the largest feelings beyond the wynd of soul.

By Ainn S.