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The Dark

The Dark is generous and it is patient.

It is the Dark that seeds cruelty into justice,

That drips contempt into compassion,

That poisons love with grains of doubt.

The Dark can be patient,

Because the slightest drop of rain

Will cause those seeds to sprout.

The rain will come, and the seeds will sprout,

For the Dark is the soil in which they grow,

And it is the clouds above them,

And it waits behind the star that gives them light.

The dark’s patience is infinite.

Eventually even stars burn out.

The Dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins.

It always wins because it is everywhere.

It is in the wood that burns your hearth,

And in the kettle on the fire;

It is under your chair and under your table

And under the sheets on your bed.

Walk in the midday sun and the dark is with you,

Attached to the soles of your feet.

The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.

The Dark is generous and it is patient

And it always wins-but in the heart of its strength

Lies a weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back.

Love is more than a candle.

Love can ignite the stars.

Beauty

Beauty: to see a picture of her makes my heart swell.

I see her rarely, but every time I do, I still stutter to come up with a sentence.

Every time we talk, I always have a smile on my face.

I can’t be too sure if she noticed me the way I noticed her.

I already fell for her, but I don’t know if she did for me.

I truly adore her.

I feel that she is a forbidden piece of art.

If I lay one finger on her, she is tainted.

I’m an admirer from afar, but I can say that I see true beauty.

In her skin, her eyes, and her hair.

But most importantly, her heart.

In Beauty, the truth is found within, not outside.

I see it every time I look into her eyes.

When I do, I also see her soul.

Is it at all late to see if Beauty noticed me?

I cannot be too sure.

I want to see her face-to-face.

When I do, I want to be holding her hand.

When I hold her hand, she gives me confidence.

With that confidence, I want to tell her what I see in her.

And when I tell her, I hope Beauty can accept me.

To be accepted by true Beauty is, I think, to be loved.

And if that’s true love, then I will welcome it with open arms.

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