#vatha urusander

I need help

I have painted a man worthy of being her husband. They will see his strength, his resolute integrity, because these lie on the surface. They will not see the underside of such things - the cruelty beneath the strength, the cold pride behind that stern resolution. The blade of judgement grasped firm in integrity's hand. They will see in his stance his soldier's discipline, and the burdens assumed without complaint. Yet see nothing of withered empathy or unreasonable expectation. In the tones they will find warmth with but a hint of the underlying metal, and in so seeing they will understand nothing of that melding of fire and iron and all that it promises. My power is vast, the talent undeniable, the vision sure and true. Yet all it leaves me is torment. There is but one god, and its name is beauty. There is but one kind of worship, and that is love. There is for us but one world, and we have scarred it beyond recognition. Art is the language of the tormented, but the world is blind to that, for ever blind. Urusander, I see you - I face you now - in the failing light, and you frighten me to the core.