She is pale and mourn's the life she has lost.
As she weeps, her tears form a pool,
It washes, sweeing down from the Heavon above to the Earth below.
There, the tears mingle with dirt,
And a small sprout grows.
A native walks by and bends to inspect the sprout,
He looks to the sky and marvels, saying,
"Truly, it is beautiful."
Somewhere in the world a dragon dies.
His shriek of anger, pain and grief tears the world,
Breaking the earth asunder.
A great golden body twists and turns to plummet headlong towards the ground.
Little reality ripples form and spread,
As the light dims and dies in his eyes.
For one moment the entire world is silent,
Except for one quiet murmur that rings true, saying,
"Truly, it is beautiful."
Somewhere on the earth a nymph is born.
Her chubby cheeks and baby smile grin happily.
She giggles and wiggles her baby feet.
Her grip is strong as she reaches out to hold the world in her hand.
Her eyes sparkle with such intensity,
And her laughter tinkles lightly.
A mother's friend holds the cheerful child.
The condition is contagious as she says,
"Truly, it is beautiful."
Somewhere in the dark a griffin broods.
His face and claws are old and wrinkled.
A thousand angry memories flash in his eyes.
Deep ruts line the stone where he has sat scratching his life away.
Hatred breeds in the walls around,
And blackness imprisons a surreal silence.
The evil glint of talons dances wickedly and,
A single tear announces there will be none, now, to say,
"Truly it is beautiful."
