Her Beauty

She walks within the nightmare
of her ever present past.
Devoured by a shadow
of the pain from which it's cast.
Bending at the fear
that stirs instinctively inside,
resonating softly
through the eyes she tries to hide.

The hand of understanding's
gentle touch has found her cold.
Distorted by the distance
that her desperation holds.
Running from the demons
in the darkness of her heart.
Keeping it together
as she slowly falls apart.

The horror of her story
is reflected on her face.
Her hollow stares of sorrow
and her soft seductive grace.
The subtle wash of tears
across the contours of her cheeks.
Expressions of discoloration
racing from defeat.

Over time the scars have faded
from the surface of her skin.
The pain remains, however,
still tormenting her within.
It pierces through my very nerves
caressing every thought.
I long to take it all away
but find that I cannot.

Her beauty isn't simply bound
by measures pre-defined.
It's deeper than the shallow standards
seared into our minds.
It's more than merely physical
attributes to the flesh.
While unapparent to the eyes
exquisite nonetheless.

Beneath her bridled misery,
behind her silent cries,
you'll find her fragile soul
and there is where her beauty lies.
It shines from every angle of her being
even though
how beautiful she is to me
she'll probably never know.