If I Glory In Beauty Poem by Daniel Mentor

Oh! heavens above I look to you
Behold your wonder
Aren't you the cradle and the grave of beauty?
And as you spread your glorious hands
Upon your terrible brother below
I look to you for comfort

For earth your brother is a silly place
Even her myth is ridiculous
They say she blossomed like Eden
It glory now in turmoil
And men, her children likewise
Since Cane, they prey on themselves

Little things get them bickering
Such things as beauty even
Look upon me author of beauty
For though a sea men abound
I stand alone sinking
As in a sea

Their loathing of me unmistakable
I am a flower among thorns
If I glory they scowl
They bid I suffer
Like them, restless!
This 'beauty', Shan't I glory before it wanes?