Calendula Mingled Scarlet Eschscholtzia.

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Cold breeze from the dark palm tree with no shadow beneath the twilight, he stood there in the middle of the night. With the resplendent gleams over the moon, he waled down the street, heart’s blue and aching for the longest time he could ever remember. The night was quite, there was only silenced disquietude and uncanny solitude circling over the town. As he walked home with the headache and dizziness he had inside, he looked down into his own shadow, emanated by the street light. He stumbled into one thing that he soberly knows that he loved the most, a piano. Somehow it was there, like the universe told him to pour his despair and despondency into lines of melodies. As the time goes by and he sat on it, his fingertips were trembling bad, not ready about the uncertainty he could face in a moment. All these times he was smiling because he got to play a song for his lover on their home, but the time changed so quickly while he tried to hanging himself by a thread. He fell. He fell down as the steady beat of his cries goes down on the key of the piano. With the first breath he sobs, he poured it all in such idyllic way. Still, there were sadness and blue all over, resonating around the quite town while everyone was not there. In the silence, he built up melodies that leads him to spill everything he felt. It was heart-wrenching, no one shall be able to get it through. He gave all of him, and he asked for nothing more than receiving back of his lover. He thought it was all about trust, but he clearly failed to be the best soldier on the ground. When the morning comes, he’s done with kicking off the uncanny. When the sun comes up, he’s done despising himself, and all the aligned rhythms of his performance shall be recorded in the back of his head, capturing all emotions deep within.

𝗖𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮𝗹: 𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻.​

The darkest side of the moon shows up right in time when the glooms covered all the measurements of grace the city felts during this time. As the twilight and the smoke of cigarettes blew the nervousness away, the road seemed empty with no traffic lights clashing against each other. No honking sound was heard, but there was a sound of breaking glass. A bottle of whiskey was thrown under the stopped bus at the corner of the street, showing nothing but void emptiness. The night is still young to this day, as life maltreated them as no other peers would. Dead romance, burning roses and ashes are trailing across the asphalt, the black road that they used to speed up and run away from the jeopardizing lonesome. Truthfully, their reputations are dead by the daylight, as if nothing they could lose. But his phantom remains tall under the luminescent moon on the sky up there. Slowly but sure, he exhales a grey smoke from the cigarette in his right hand. Sharp gaze, an alluring personage with a broken heart and empty soul stare down the street along with his camaraderie— who happens to feel the same way. The sun is not his safe zone, and he is an owl who prefers the night over the beaming sun rays hitting his head. Nevertheless, the night is going to be young forever. Hence the darkness that he likes until today, even forevermore in furtherance. The whiskey will never go out or empty, unlike his dried down tears on his retina. Tattooed on his mind, the city belongs to him in the middle of twilight.

One heavy day I ran away from the grim face of society and the dizzying clamor of the city and directed my weary step to the spacious alley. I pursued the beckoning course of the rivulet and the musical sounds of the birds until I reached a lonely spot where the flowing branches of the trees prevented the sun from the touching the earth. I stood there, and it was entertaining to my soul—my thirsty soul who had seen naught but the mirage of life instead of its sweetness. I was engrossed deeply in thought and my spirits were sailing the firmament when a hour, wearing a sprig of grapevine that covered part of her naked body, and a wreath of poppies about her golden hair, suddenly appeared to me. As she realized my astonishment, she greeted me saying, "fear me not; I am the nymph of the jungle."

She replied, "some goddesses live in the lives of their worshippers and die in their deaths, while some live an eternal and infinite life. My life is sustained by the world of beauty which you will see where ever you rest your eyes, and this beauty is nature itself; it is the beginning of the shepherds joy among the hills, and a villagers happiness in the fields, and the pleasure of the awe filled tribes between the mountains and the plains. This beauty promotes the wise into the throne the truth." Then I said, "beauty is a terrible power!" and she retorted, "human beings fear all things, even yourselves. You fear heaven, the source of spiritual peace; you fear nature, the haven of rest and tranquility; you fear the God of goodness and accuse him of anger, while he is full of love and mercy."

I asked, "speak to me of that beauty which the people interpret and define, each one according to his own conception; I have seen her honored and worshipped in different ways and manners." She answered, "Beauty is that which attracts your soul, and that which loves to give and not to receive. When you meet beauty, you feel that the hands deep within your inner self are stretched forth to bring her into the domain of your heart. It is the magnificence combined of sorrow and joy; it is the unseen which you see, and the vague which you understand, and the mute which you hear—it is the holy of holies that begins in yourself and ends vastly beyond your earthly imagination." Then the nymph of the jungle approached me and laid her scented hands upon my eyes. And as she withdrew, I found me alone in the valley. When I returned to the city, whose turbulence no longer vexed me, I repeated her words:

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“𝗕𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀
𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗲.”
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“A renewed appreciation of the grace of natural forms and a renewed sense of wonder at the diversity of the world we inhabit. Elegance is attained when all that is superfluous has been removed and woman finds simplicity and concentration: The simpler and more conscious her posture becomes, the more pulchritude it becomes. At least in part, people are interested in a subject in which they can identify on a basic level with the people who do it. The extraordinary aesthetics of nature is not obvious to someone who never leaves the city center. An appreciation of the grace and power of the laws of physics is an acquired taste. Character contributes to pulchritude. It fortifies a woman as her youth fades. A way of behaving, a standard of courage, discipline, fortitude, and integrity can do a lot to make a woman pulchritude. Pulchritude is a manifestation of a secret natural law, which otherwise would be hidden from us forever. Is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time. Is our weapon against nature; By it we make objects, giving them limit, symmetry, proportion. Pulchritude halts and freezes the melting flux of nature.”

On her cheeks, a radiance was reflected. And the dawn revives the gentle face, soft touch with her lips. And filled with the power of lightning, bright face, wash with dew, the sweetness of taking blue lungwort, gently touch their palms. Gifts from the wind-freedom, dreams. The gift from the sun is love without end. Pulchritude born in heaven, incarnated as a lassie forever. The sound of waves in her eyes riddles, secrets of silence, enchanting, magical light, which leaves a mark on the heart. And the darkness melts before her and drive slowly crazy. Her face is prettier than a rose and waterfall hair beauteous physique and light movement. She's unnatural on earth, and her lips entice the souffle, and the tenderness of the swan's neck, and sensual languid sights-everything excites. She has the rarest of devotional gifts. Let it shine like a star her holy pulchritude, what is more valuable than sapphire. And let the sinful world save. Give the universe a bright light and get kindness in return. The touch of the shining sun and the kiss of the moon at night revealing its ferocity and fragility.