(An Elegy for Beauty)
Let her rest, our tender, yielding Beauty,
For she bears the weight of this earth’s hunger upon her breast.
She was born a creature of innocence,
Lovely in her divine purity,
Perfect in countenance
And free from the bonds of adversity.
Captivated by soft spirits and grace,
She lingered on the petals of shy
Roses, her blush on each face,
Their every breath entwined with her low sigh.
And through worldly desire she came alive,
Hints of her light touching darkened souls
Until she no longer thrived.
Her sweet heart corrupt, the mourning bell tolls.
Encaged by human vanity, she died
Her flame engulfed by sorrow and strife,
Robbed of virtue, her pride --
She swiftly ran towards the end of life.
So bitter the taste
And painful the haste
With which we sad goodbye.
Our vainglory the reason for her cry.
Let her rest, our tender, yielding Beauty,
For she bears the weight of this earth’s hunger upon her breast.