Beauty exists amongst the shadows,
in places where darkness thrives
and hiding the sun becomes a norm.
Beauty exist behind streams of tears,
when emotion becomes physical on
melanated cheeks and drowned pores.
Beauty exists in seasons of loneliness,
in moments where our beating heart
is the only sound echoed in our ears.
Beauty exists in decaying corpse,
where insects find homes in bodies
they were once afraid to crawl beside.
Beauty exists in our favourite love songs,
where tunes take us back to times
when our souls indulged in someone else.
Beauty exists above aged tree tops,
where growth is no longer up to time
but up to men with axes who need it.
Beauty exists in birds resting on power lines,
always side by side as if they weren’t
meant to live alone, but in pairs.
Beauty exists in changing seasons,
when nature and it’s creatures rebirths
and dies, all at the same time.
Beauty exists in places of turmoil,
abandoned cities, rummaged by war–
left to only exist in history lessons.
Beauty exists in scrambled minds
of family members, unable to recognize
the loved ones they grew old with.
Beauty exists in all things that destroys,
restores, and shakes.