Concealed Charisma
Springtime facade shines
in embellished topography,
embroidered enshrined on
Monet landscape,
luminous
in effervescent elegance
with sparkle of blue lagoon
in dreaming ebullient eyes,
entranced,
and with lustrous lotus petals
of luscious lips
fervent,
painted on silken canvas
of magnetic countenance,
carved with narcissistic contours
of innate pride
with dormant Dorian Gray syndrome
subdued.
The sands of time
roll over wrinkled canvas,
winter twilight spider weaves
webs of facial furrows
of creased contentment,
empty eyes gaze,
forlorn
at weathered wasteland,
the lips of faded flower lose
passion patina,
enticing once,
hedonist psyche refuses
to gauge the grief of loss,
trapped in transient notion
sanguine,
for what is a face
if not a metaphor
for proclivity panorama,
the enduring snapshot
capturing mesmeric moments
in timeless frame
of concealed charisma,
contained.
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