In the heart of beauty’s grace,
There lies a crack, a subtle trace,
A flaw that whispers through the seams,
Where light and shadow weave their dreams.

For in the perfect, gleaming face,
A shadow finds its quiet place,
And though the charm may brightly sing,
There’s something broken about beautiful things.

In every bloom that stands so tall,
In every star that seems to fall,
There’s a hint of sorrow’s wing,
For something broken lies within beautiful things.

Yet from this break, a truth does spring,
That even flaws can softly cling,
To make the whole more deeply ring,
For there’s something beautiful about broken things.

© Ravi Pradhan