A Soul To Love

A Soul To Love

     At first glance she noticed his greasy, ill-kept hair and his tousled clothing which hung on his skeletal frame with sweat. His casualness allured her and his shoddy appearance revolted her, yet still he was a mystery, an intrigue, and her eyes never left his shadowy figure etched in the door frame. To her right was the vision of perfection. A man of stately quality. His feathery mane lay on his head like a swan’s graceful wing while his face was as gentle as a a Nightingale’s song. Again she turned to the man at the door. Confusion wrought her body as she stared with bewildering excitement. Could repulsion ever be defined as sensual?

     We all have our own ideas of what pleases us more, yet this man betrayed every one of her morals as she came closer. Her head fell close to her chest hoping to conceal any emotion towards this masquerade of masculinity. Her hair floated over her cheeks and caressed the face that men would find beautiful, if not exotic. Her eyes tilted upwards and locked onto the eyes behind this mask of true unattractiveness and she saw what few admit. His eyes showed a warmth, a want of a love that was blind. A love that never saw the outward appearance, but a love that saw the soul.

     How vain we are to see a special beauty in people, yet take it within ourselves and hide it for it would be wrong to show affection for one so ugly. Oh, what vain a society. We buy and want things so attractive that we never fully understand what is beyond all of it. Why must we always live in fear of another man’s words when in our heart we know all we hear are lies? How much better are the blind than we, who see so much clearer than we do? They live in a world of darkness, yet are always shrouded in truth.

     She hangs her head low once more and knows she is a victim of a senseless charade. To her right sits perfection, but how perfect is he really? The glow of warmth does not illuminate, yet gawking eyes see him. She is blind, but for one tiny minute she has seen truth and as we all do, she ran away.

Author's Note

Circa mid-1980's

Reviews

[JENY]

Kuods..
To realistic touch of your pen….
Fantastic…..
This slice of truth touched me….