The Darkness -- Mine Love
My Love
I stand alone in a crowded room, my eyes fixated upon a point in time, space, and
existence. In this crowded room there is much beauty, but alas, it is only skin
deep. The room is filled with poisoned apples, apples held together only by their
waxed, red skin. The apples are shiny, pretty, but poisoned and useless, worth
nothing. They are nothing.
From one corner of the room a soft white glow is radiating. My stare is distracted
as I turn to gaze in wonder at the source of such glory. It is, alas, another red
apple, but no. It is not, it is unwaxed, left in its natural state to be who it desires,
left to be enjoyed for what is inside. Inside, unpoisoned, unblemished, a snowy,
white, beautiful fruit; the product of a white flower.
It is now this white perfection which draws my eye. I see here a glimpse of white,
untainted true beauty in a sea of red.
It is a white rose surrounded by red ones.
It is true beauty surronded by a more common kind.
My Love, It Is You.
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last updated: September 22, 1998
