Beauty

Beauty, what is it? An abstract thing!

Is it the glow of the face,

The shining eyes, the long neck,

The high cheeks and the graceful looks.

Is it a symbol,

That attracts thousands and thousands

When one passes across a crowd of

Millions and millions.

Is it everlasting!

Does it go along with,

Till one reaches the fag end of ones age.

Then, from where comes

The wrinkles on the face,

The stiffness in muscles,

The bend in the backbone,

And the whiteness in the swaying curls.

Or, is beauty

The purity of ones soul,

The high moral that keeps

The neck erect.

Or the goodness at ones heart, or

The kindness that reflects

Through ones actions.

Or the speech, the way of interaction

The politeness of ones tongue,

The brightness of one’s honesty,

That makes the millions dumb.

Beauty that reflects from one’s face

Dies within no time,

The passing time put

Marks on one’s face And

The anxieties do the rest.

Beauty of one’s soul,

Kindness at ones heart,

The politeness in one’s speech,

The high moral lasts till one finds

Few yards beneath the soil,

The everlasting place.

Time can never pierce through

The values one carries along.

Beauty of a face

Is a friend of few days

But the beauty of a soul never departs.

It makes a soul immortal

Even after the hands of death

Takes one away in her lap.