The idea for this has been in my head for quite awhile, but it had yet to come to fruition. The final line sums up the entire poem, the rest is really unnecessary. In infatuation, people often fail to see the object of their desire's flaws; in love they come to embrace them.




True Perfection



Divine, truly a creature of beauty
So alluring,
In each piece, in every way
So full of invisible flaws, unnoticed chinks
Exquisiteness in impurity

No starry skied illusion, could ever match
The perfect fantasy, can never live up to the imperfect reality

Those fragments, the wish to be free of them
The price of freedom is loss of self
Instead, let wings of delight provide shelter from disgrace

You are beautiful.