BEAUTY KILLED THE BEAST

Twas’ beauty, who stood out like soaring thorns  

Chiseling herself inside him, loving all his forms  

The fiend’s spread stature, or his skin furrily warmth 

Satiated this beaut’s heart and many a storm’s doors. 

Twas’ Venus who grabbed in hers his hand, to reach the Heaven 

And in these lovely eyes' reflection, glimmered his expression 

Yet, the thorn’s twig doesn’t bend to the snarl of oppression 

And so, the beast’s horns would pierce through, howling possession.   

Her breath became mist, like her bosom pressed against the dome  

Petals falling gracefully, to the bitter kiss of the gentle comb  

The marbled plates to the floor became nothing more than stone  

How could such ravishing passion not smother, yet lose all its control?  

Such a lonely creature would only dare for a companion’s grace  

Fatherless, Motherless, wonders the earth looking for a place  

A gaze, a face, to where his homeliness could feel for ever embraced  

It breathes bounded air in a cupola, what was meant to rest in vase.  

Twas’ not the fall from the Heaven, for what he with her smilingly reached  

Perhaps his philosophically side, that had lonely and regretful deceased  

Twas’ not the constrained love, though played a part, that suddenly released  

Twas’ a wish of a melancholic yet loved creature, Twas' beauty, who killed the beast.