He was wandering through the woods, when he saw her.

She had long golden locks like gilt thread, it shimmered and its ribbons gently moved in the wind.

She wore an exquisite gold lace dress, which barely touched the green grass of the ground beneath her.

She gave a quick glance at the gloomy man gazing at her.

The beauty astonished him; it approached him with steady small steps.

She was like the goddess Aphrodite, but rarer.

She was the meaning of beauty, the warm air, the longer days, the bright sun, and the worry free smile.

The definition of beauty is easy; it's what leads you to desperation.

As the beauty advanced, her gold lace dress became a fade orange and the beauty in the previous goddess figure faded.

Every moment and every second of this illusion to his eyes appeared as a dream to reality, the reality of the fickleness in beauty over time.

His desperate gloomy figure slowly turned into white happiness. There was no more darkness; all that was left of him was white icy flakes.

The golden locks became white, and the fairness of her face became filled with wrinkles.

She lost her figure, her beauty, her gold.

She often looked into the mirror wondering where that gold light went.

The light was still within their cheeks, but the gold figure vanished.

In his eyes she was becoming something more beautiful than a storm.