One is free. It belongs to everyone. It endures across generations. A mountain lake at sunrise, untouched, serene. We can admire it, preserve it, leave it for our children.
The other is gilded. It dazzles, it dominates, it imprisons. A golden ballroom, designed for spectacle, not soul. Built for ego, for self, for the fleeting thrill of power. It asks nothing of its inheritors — only that they watch, amazed.
True beauty lasts. False beauty fades — and the cost is always paid by others.
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