Blindness Of The Beholder.

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Sacred she thought the values and whispers she heard,
As through her life, she passed into adulthood,
Somewhere drowned some values but the girlish touch,
Ah’, never left as the crowd around her swelled and flooded.

Every heart for the perfect lover’s love thrived,
So did her heart and pounded for the love to be perfected,
Dreams about life, dreams about love, Ah’, romantically weaved,
And came the love, dreams weaved all in perfection from an Unusual.

He never talked like she thought, he never walked like she dreamt,
He never looked like she thought but from him came the perfection,
The crowd around her whispered and the whisper became a riot,
In that rioting-world lost her sight, and rest of the senses to love.

The battling world show a path of mirages through which she tried,
To walk and run but Ah’, no path ever existed as she stood,
At the dead-end and the broken-hearted man for her wellness prayed.
The veil of mist, shrouded her, as the real path to him she left behind.

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