The stillness of her sentiment is something unfathomably beautiful. An angel closes her eyes and is immersed in the rapture of deeply intimate thoughts, her head slightly tilted to the side — her hair draped gracefully like the branches and leaves of weeping willow trees nestled in the rapture of a spring breeze set over a peaceful stream that flows endlessly in wondrous dreams. Black silk rests on her feminine curves like snowcapped mountains graced with light snow undisturbed. Her spirit animal is the Crowned Eagle, soaring to that celestial place in the company of thousands of white winged angels. To look upon her and see only outer beauty is to see the surface of the sea but never dive into its depths to explore its prodigious mystery. She transcends in tranquility. The essence of who she is, is displayed silently. Gaze upon her glory; yes, gaze upon a woman who wept constantly but found her victory. See in her what others couldn’t see — close yours eyes, and breathe deeply. Dream with her; witness the gorgeous illustrations of her soul. View the writings of her heart where falling tears narrated the biography of her sorrow. See that she is truly beautiful. See that she is truly beautiful.