In the realm where whispers doth dance and time standeth still,
Three voices rise, with purpose sharp and will.
Perfume, Scent, and Fragrance, in a sacred throng,
Declare their truths, each claiming right and song.
Perfume spake, with elegance refined,
“I am the soul of artistry, confined
To bottle's clasp, a crafted dream,
A potion made to linger, to gleam.
I bear the weight of ancient lore,
A muse of kings, of lovers, and more.
I am not mere essence, drifting free—
I am the art of memory."
Scent, a fleeting shadow, whispered low,
"Thou boastest of power, of permanence, I know,
But I am life—breathe in, and then I fade,
In wind, in rain, in every glade.
Not bound to glass nor vials that bind,
I slip through cracks, a breath unlined.
I linger soft on fleeting air,
A reminder of the earth, everywhere."
Fragrance, in silence, sought to intervene,
“Is it not I who weave both worlds unseen?
I am the union of the pure and the real,
The fleeting touch, the lasting feel.
I grace thy skin, I fill the room—
A subtle dance, an endless bloom.
Without me, perfume would not endure,
Without me, scent would not be pure."
The argument raged, in circles vast,
Each voice demanding, steadfast, fast.
But in the end, a truth was found:
Together, they’re woven, the essence profound.
For Perfume and Scent, though both distinct,
Find harmony in Fragrance—linked.
Each alone, a part of a greater whole,
Together, they speak to the heart and soul.
The Essence Trialogue 12/02/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
