When she came down to earth.
She knew on iron nor rock.
But when man defied beauty.
Her eyes became naked.
It wasn’t something to be grasped.
But a substance of the most beautiful art.
The one whom nothing supersedes.
A menace of the vessel.
She came to bless and anoint the world.
And the world blessed her with earthly beauty in return.
She came to stand out in the world.
But the world immersed her from within.
She came to give the world her teachings.
And yet the world taught her, her doings.
She came that the world would know of the Creative Artist.
And yet, the world consumed her with her artistic beauty.
She stood in the defilement of men.
She stood in the defilement of nature.
That the vessels of time would be anointed by the olive branches.

Despite being consumed by the world.
She thought she was doing the teachings of the Artist.
Because her sacred beauties have been stripped naked, naked of the treasured beauties.

I might have seen this before her creation.
But her entity was greater than mine.
I think the Artist of all artists made it so. So that my paradise castle would dine with the wind.

I have decided to be lame, that my successes wouldn’t doubt the camp of hatred and happiness.

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