Beauty languishes, untouched, unloved- or is it?
Desperately lonely yet not alone; anguished wail, silent;
Hidden behind a face so lovely,
In whose eyes a contortion of pain;
Invisible to unknowing, average eyes,

A practiced glance solves the puzzle-
Unwrapping the mystery, exposing the enigma.
For one so beautiful and, one so true,
Why does happiness elude you? 

The affliction is deep, seemingly incurable,
The wounds seemingly incalculable;
Wracked with self-doubt of ancient abilities,
And anxiety over the newly discovered
Reasons and passions- a spark, not yet a flame;
The belly begins its slow burn within,
Looking back at what is lost.
Ready to explore what lies ahead-
Without fear, without impending dread.

Those delicate wings, not quite ready, not quite dry,
Slowly unfolding, soon ready to fly;
And passion has, and will, engulf her as she soars
Through life with its highs and lows;
With her one true love , who is not yet known;
Or rather, is not yet discovered- for that true love  may be close,
As close as a whisper to a ready ear;
One must remain open to all possibilities,
And approach all with open mind, yet due care.

Life, strange beast with its twist, turns, and myriad intrigues-
The past becomes the future; the future is the present;
The present is her pain, and her pain is to be her gain;
For through it are lessons learned, and all are good;
Through the veil, that clouded, mangled look-
Shrouded though it is with life’s doubt;
A smile beckons and reaches forth, stretching,
Aching for compassion and tenderness-
A light, piercing through turmoil, and distress.

Hope peers through that cloud, one ray, then two, until,
Life is left with no tears, and nothing more to fear;
Bouncing from pleasure to pleasure brings no lasting pleasure,
Save for the moment’s desires satisfied-
Though it is fruitful for the moment, it remains
Only a temporary fulfillment; fleeting feelings
Which provide not, lasting nourishment, nor sustenance for the spirit;
Thus, remains a soul bereft with regrets- empty stumps where once a forest
Of hope, of hungry anticipation, looking toward the future.

Though there be doubts that time is still an able ally-
Time is the cure for all that ails;
And from the depths of this unhappy valley,
Will and wish triumphantly prevail,
And dark days but distant memories.
For one so beautiful, one so true,
Happiness will no longer elude you-
For one so beautiful and for one so true,
The future is made, for such, as you