|courtesy - google|
From a long distance, with a better eye sight, I saw a painting. At the first sight I fell in love as its beauty saw me into pieces. It’s an art painted by a veteran hands. The color selection was most perfect, the background was at its best, and the wardrobe to the character in the painting was ravishing.
This picture was of an ilk that which makes its creator to jump in vanity; a true masterpiece. There is no match to this piece of wonder for there is no match for any masterpieces. Every art is unique, incomparable as it is a broken part from the heart of its creator. What you see in a wonder art is just not a creation but the urge and passion of the artist.
This painting glimmered from the distance I saw. He has painted an angel which we only heard about, which we only read. She is an angel without wings. I could see her countenance flittering like a star in the dusk, her slender body illuminating like a planet in night; and as a picture as a whole emitting the effulgent light of the creator.
I walked closer to take a deep look at the painting. O! My holy creator! It is not a painting but a statue of an angel.
…a statue of an angel; sculpted by the world’s most skilled sculptor. From head to toe the creator imbibed all his passion. Also, I doubted: if he has created one such statue as a result of his obsession to see a real beauty.
From some roaming star in the space, a new born sun, the material for the statue was selected. The ravishing hairs looked like a dense forest with a pavement in the middle lit with the light of the moon. Those enchanting eyes mesmerized anybody that looked at, and hypnotized everyone to fall in love with this enchantress. And that dimple in the cheek made anybody to slip and fell and mesmerizes to get up not from it.
They flamboyant smile she carried suffices any heart that were in search of happiness. The lines on her lips said a short story of beauty and lust. The carvings of her body, her slender physical appearance made any male a malevolent. Words could explain those carvings, that aroma of romance around her, but it takes hundreds of years to finish writing.
…the toe was sculpted to make it stand on the water, to float, to walk over it. The wardrobe added luminescence to the statue. The color white of her dress reflected the light, her inner light. I wondered: is it a statue of beauty or a broken piece of moon.
I neared a little to see the ravishing beauty closer. My eyes got stuck to her, eyelids wanted to shut my eyes to protect it from dryness but I resisted closing to protecting my heart from dryness.
And finally, when I neared, she said “Hi”