She was beautiful.
Gracious host, warm of heart.
Too gentle to be envied, and loved in return.
She nurtured her kind and tended to them tenderly.
Her support is what brought out in him his purpose and its pursuit.
She spun a world of her own around her, shrouded in love and clouded by tranquillity-
Clouds that were caught in a tempest so severe and steady and unrelenting.
Such a fight was put up; a wall of hope on the nimble shoulders of affection.
It was a sight to behold, and took all those who watched in a wave of inspiration.
She was beautiful, and it could be seen cradled beneath her wrinkles and blemishes.
She was beautiful, and it could be seen in their eyes that brimmed with fondness.
But her silent courage, even as she carped, it shone through.
Her fight against living hell, for life itself.
For this, she is beauty.