Where will we name the tiredness, that beckons itself strongly from the toiling man’s tired eyes?
It is his color, negative or positive, and that is all he thinks upon.
Men do not possess color, without a woman.
A woman makes up all the color in his home. Could a man rule over his place, in all the emptiness left in it, after his woman has died? He cannot, because color has left it.
He sees images in black and white, and what is guilt to a man? To name “guilt” as something man should be inherently guilty of, is a most pathetically obvious statement. Man is guilty of himself, his own presence, and cannot bear to see the stains upon his face, and his form, when peering through a reflection.
The mirror is a man’s enemy.
Does a man care for his appearance as often as a woman does? Never.
And, there is a reason for this.
How could the beast, that which a man is, tolerate his own appearance?
There is a reason why a monster dwells in shadows. It is a comfort. Light breaks a man’s darkness. Though, he feels both filled by the darkness, and at home in it. And this is all when no woman has shown her color.
Beauty is color, and all the options to its limitlessness.
If a woman sees herself as beautiful, then she should comprehend what beauty is, to a man. It is the frailest thing, to him, and deserves the protection that which love will offer, to it. Love offers clothing to the naked beauty, to the naked woman. And upon when a woman is comfortable to shed such garbs, he will see her most vulnerable before him.
However, beauty will always receive influence.
How is this?
It is because “beauty” translates to “truth”. And for each woman, there are miserable and hateful men, who will twist her form to their image, as she had expected them to be loyal.
A monster, still a monster, unwilling to be comforted by light, by her light, will ravage a woman.
A man is always a beast. Though, he’ll become something less of a beast, should a woman offer forgiveness.
Forgiveness is the light to a man’s inherent and innate guilt.
He’ll remain a beast only when he has found more comfort in darkness, than with light.
Suffering to a man is like building blocks, necessary to construct his acceptance to something loving. In all a man denies could ever be loving, he always denies a woman to ever offer forgiveness.
And were he to change a woman?
He should not, for he should let her remain the same.
Truth is always molded to one’s vision of it.
Manipulated, and always used for something, this becomes the element of truth, as the clay for society to see something different.
In protection of it, in raising of truth or beauty or a woman, she will see Heaven, before she ever dies.