Lost Beauty
By: Maya
Can you hear the tears?
The wallowing moan can swallow you whole
without considering your intentions.
She was once so beautiful.
The power in her eyes could keep you memorized
and leave you with meaning.
Her hair, so thick it would wrap around your ankles and drag you into the heavens.
The music of her voice could sway and persuade you into climbing the tallest mountain
then jumping to discover that you have the power of flight.
She was so beautiful...was.
When she was near all bowed out of joy.
All creatures she adored for there was not a form of life that was unworthy of respect.
Spirits gleefully uplifted, constantly encouraging.
She was beautiful.
Now the goddess croaks with remorse as she tries
to regain her runaway beauty.
Can you hear the tears as they pour down her face onto the wilting flowers?
She gave her beauty to the ego of a earthly man who did not know
to not pull a burning star from the sky.
All that remains are the whispers and stares that echo in her footsteps.
Her voice absent and her hair limp,
her past and present reflections are in reverse.
Shaking and jagged, she has children to fill the gap
that once overflowed but now burns in her like an unattended fire.
Now who is she?
Who am I?
Who are we?
We are the lost beauty.
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