True beauty is not just an outward light,
But rather glow that stirs the soul within;
The outward beckons moths in mindless flight,
The inward is pure truth’s undying glim;
For outward beauty’s but a lustrous sheen
Whose gloss may yet conceal a darker heart;
And lack of luster may the converse bring—
To show that light the inward may impart.
Bright beacons can confound both moths and men
Oft leading promised pilgrimage to doom;
But from the humble butterfly we learn—
The truest light is not the one assumed.
For beauty is not always as it seems,
And shadows lurk beneath the fairest gleam.

©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.