Shattering The Surface.

By Astha Agrawal

They say beauty is as she does, but do they speak their mind?

 If they do, then maybe my eyes are blind;

 Because all I see is a masked designer show,

 Perfection on the veils, but where does the truth go?

Marble finish is what they seek - smooth, flawless, and oh so chic;

 Some go a step above, glass desires in the hearts they shove;

 It's one of a kind, opaque and sleek - a global construct, cold and bleak;

 Promises of glory, but such a sad story, where truth is concealed in shadows and gory.

The butterfly lives for the wings it weaves,

 The moth chases light, survival at best, it receives.

 What chance does a man have in standards alive,

 In society’s court, where verdicts arrive and hopes barely survive?

Dreams are silenced, desires undo,

 In the shadows of what’s expected, what’s due.

 Justice waits, so patient and blue,

 To be asked for objections and say, "I do!"

But mirrors crack and masks do slip,

 At least once we all go out of script;

 Through the cracks then blooms the truth so sweet,

 For beauty is not carved in stone, but thrives where our true selves meet!

By Astha Agrawal