My Beautiful Statue

Beauty is what you're with no life.
You keep smiling at me with no intention to come alive.
I know you really want to say a word to me, but you're mute with a regretful heart , yet a smiling face.
Season comes and go, and you're still the way you are, lifeless with the will to speak, just to say a word...and i feel so bad for you dear statue.

Tis' same with humans when they are dead.

The body wants to say a word , being dead with with a smiling face.

oh! What a fate.
What then is the beauty and specialty of being a human, when one end up being a statue at last.

This i ask myself every night.