There is a river overflowing with the elixir of life.

Pure vitality is what it promises.

A life of unimaginable riches in physical presentation.

There is a river overflowing with the purest of hopes.

The resource to drive a woe man wild.

The endless dream that never dies.

The hopefulness that passes on its hope unto the victors of…

B-E-A-U-T-Y.

Beauty is I. Beauty is in the eye. The bestower bestows the cherished gift of…

B-E-A-U-T-Y.

The eye—it perceives the end result of the elixir doused patient.

The eye—receiving the gift of B-E-A-U-T-Y.

I—one alone—cannot fathom the amount of pressure this gem has been under.

I—one eye—cannot simply accept this beauty as a passing by.

Woman! Man!

Do you not see what my eye, her eye, his eye, sees about your glowing soul?

You are the beauty. You are the victor of the glory.

B-E-A-U-T-Y is presently being reflected onto my eye.

I. Eye.

One together.

Forever perceiving the world in multiple, short breaths.

Behold beholder!

Look no further for the perfection that tantalizes you so.

For you are the beauty, the one and only.

B-E-A-U-T-Y.

I. Eye.

They are grateful for your sharing of your B-E-A-U-T-Y.