Work silently, in the shadows,
Hand craft your majesty and seek not the throne,
When the space vacates itself in the vastness of meadows,
The people will find you, embrace you and your alone.
They’ll see your secret, veiled as it may be,
Beauty cannot lay dormant too long,
It’s not eyes, nor hearts, but souls that will see,
They’ll hear your music, they’ll hear your song.
Ugliness calls it out to duel,
Because it cannot bare the sight of itself,
Answer not with aggression, it’s favoured fuel,
But with kindness, the currency of beauty’s wealth.
It knows well it stands defeated,
Provides the catalyst to confirm,
Beauty rules supreme and remains seated,
Superior, poised grandeur, throne affirmed.