--By Junior L.
Has the question of beauty's roots been explored?
The mind is fickle with illusions,
Perhaps beauty is nonsense,
the spiral of the snake's skin,
the soft cries of the thunder's joy,
My angels have no beauty,
just mere fictions existing to please my pain,
I have smiled before once,
That was when they told me the storm will shatter my heart,
I am still putting the puzzle together,
every day I cry because a part of me is missing,
Angels with no beauty,
Are angels meant to be beautiful?
such futile idea,
the waves of sadness that drove me mad,
Madness became the foundation I leaned on,
I heard my soul cry over and over begging for crumbs from my misery,
She can't get no more,
Feed your ego once,
and it will become greedy for more,
And so, I desired more misery, more agony, and more pain,
all in an attempt to understand the angel's beauty,
Hoping one day they will cease to hide from me and reveal their hideous wings,
And their soft laugh,
And their bitter love,
I have danced with their wings, and may I say, I now crave their freedom,
Able to fly and escape delusions at a moment's notice,
Are angels meant to be beautiful?