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The Remains of a Goddess

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Beauty is elusive. Like a chameleon, shrouded in mist, lurking in the tropical canopy. Many souls search for it, traversing the world in pursuit. Even more want to embody it. However, few have fruitful searches. Moreover, idiocy and beauty go hand and hand, although this is the doing of man, not beauty.

Beauty is a wily temptress, tantalizingly beckoning those foolish enough to seek Her. Those who hear the Siren’s call are often driven to extremes to find her. These people – no, prey rather— are often manipulated by this sly Siren, and act fervently. Many men and women immerse themselves in the pursuit of Beauty. Cajoled with visions of exuberance, they lose sight of Beauty herself. They’ll continue searching ardently, for something surreal. Nevertheless, passion is a very mercurial emotion.

The most despairing relationship with Beauty is one of conformity. Those who strive to embody Beauty are chastised with great vengeance. No human being can embody Beauty; only obtain her grace. These fanatics only wish to possess the aesthetics of Beauty. The desire to embody Beauty has taken its toll on Her. She has lost her innocence. She has been violated, wanted not for Her whole, but Her power. No longer revered for the intense feelings she has created, Beauty has become wrathful, spiteful, and vindictive. Avarice has destroyed Her.

Beauty is not sinister by nature. She has merely become that way. The same zealots who exalt Her are the fiends who mutilated her. Once, Beauty was not a jaded monster, but a pleasant being. Beauty was once jubilant. She would lift spirits, inspire, and revitalize battered souls. Now, it seems as if Beauty is the one who needs to be revitalized, Her soul has become nothing more than a shallow void. The frantic yearning for Beauty by zealous plebeians has decimated her.

The same zealots who annihilated Beauty seek her, unaware of her deplorable condition. Nevertheless, the few zealots who find Beauty will be thoroughly disappointed. The euphoria created by Beauty lay in Her substance, not the desolate Siren she has become. The psychotic search for Beauty unnerves her. She is no longer the resplendent sun creating a glistening horizon over the ocean, a congregation of stars piercing the dark night sky, a blooming rose caressed by the spring, or the affection of two star crossed lovers. She is now merely a graven image, not the boundless Goddess she once was. Simply because people want her power: the ability to please, entice, and rejuvenate.

Beauty can be resuscitated, but not without the help of the wise. The people who never disparaged Her are Her saviors. A Goddess revived by mere mortals. Through appreciation and recognition She will return to her once-elated state. Beauty is everywhere, timidly concealed in the simplicity of life. Those who will rescue Her are the ones who see Her everywhere. Be they zealots who realized their irrationality, or the enlightened few who never lost sight of Her. However, acknowledging Beauty is not easy. She is elusive. However, her presence is less clandestine than it appears. Most people have a narrow view of Beauty. Their effigy of Her is what they’re after. When in reality, She is an ethereal and omnipresent Goddess, thriving in everything. Nonetheless, the forlorn Goddess survives. Hopelessly instilling Her breathtaking grace in everything; from the spectacular Northern Lights, to a tender smile. The anguished Goddess awaits salvation in despair.





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