In the heavens, the realms above

Beauty is a product of Love

Beauty comes from Truth’s inner glow

Not one part nor parcel is a vain show

In the world within, the purity of Beauty

Comes not from the outward looks’ obscurity

It emanates from the heart of the soul 

Righteous character the rule, the ultimate goal

Without depth of meaning and life’s true purpose

Beauty becomes like a cyclical circus

Changing outer shells every few years

While the soul inside dies, overcome with fears

The being becomes a farce, a lightbulb without Light

A malfunctioning lamp, useless in the night

Because the focus wasn’t the core

The soul writhes, withers, suffers sore

To the outside world of this plane below

Beauty defined by the flesh’s vapid glow

Purpose exchanged for competition

Crabs in a bucket without true elevation

As their “status” increases so do their lies

And the inexorable emptiness they feel inside

They try to escape this through their parties,

Alcohol, drugs, and continual debaucheries 

Hoping their rebellion will fill the void,

Knowing well that to death they’re joined

“Party on,” they cry out, killing Truth’s Beauty,

And to their souls committing utter cruelty