As the rose tells me of the struggles it faced, yet succeeded.
The rain dripping, the wind challenging; as she blow’s in the wind,
Her root’s, her family of flowers. never cease development;
always amounting to success, strength. She appears the strongest,
Her root system, strengthens those from “beneath”. and the pedals one day, will reach the heavens.
As a well guided team, under the commandment of the “largest” head of the rose; within the traditional themed garden.
Bringing the less strong up, with nutrition. They’re bringing the ground with the team. Nothing gets left behind. As the ground lift’s,
It spirals with the rooting system attached. The angel’s shine the sun, to lift, the mass of soil.
The ground, shall never be without its beauty. They need one-another, the humbleness of the “grounding”
needs the beauty of the rose garden – they’re as a separate society, within the mass of society.
The pipe warm’s; dream’s half dreamt, take ahold – What they’re shooting for became what they’ve cried about – a sea of empty dreams flow from out the eyes. In the pursuit of money, to fill their habit, but the habit had taken hostage of the mind. Their empty chest, containing their blackened heart pumps, but for how long? For the white – they’ll lose sight – a snowy winter day, chasing eurphoria. They’ve chased a dream; their “dreams”, firing from a handgun, strikes their throat, and within the hand, holds a rocky ounce. Once proud wolves, taken by the pipe of regret – their heart was a rock, attached to their mind – Redirecting the strings, to play out, an unfulfilled life and an early grave. Their negative memories play within their parents mind’s.
She goes around warming peoples hearts, each heart, she sets afire a blaze that will last…. She creates examples of what it is to be human – to love, and be caring – they pass on her teaching’s.
She’s the type that will sacrifice an hour of work for a 2 min reaction of happiness- she knows what its like to have nothing, yet have everything. So selfless, it shakes the greed out of the chilliest of men.
My feeling’s created a vortex – They shall bring her towards; Her’s deflect my circular storm. The wind shoots towards immensely.
Knocking me down – She comes forward wearing an (unknown) mask, wielding a freshly sharpened knife – The days have passed, the blade remained, the mask knew many roles, the knife has taken many foes – The darkness is overpowering
The weaponry, becomes dull as she progresses her stabs locating my heart – the vortex lessens in size.
She smiles, the beauty of her smile, catches me off guard – my feeling’s ‘sharpen’ – They take ahold – strengthen…. ascend – The vortex grow’s dangerously large;
The powerful air becomes unstable, It fluctuates – tilts rapidly, back-and-forth – bringing forth the other, consuming her; the blade – bounced off my heavily guarded heart, the blade bent…. I wake up, and realize i’ve been walking once more in my sleep – Feeling’s still needing release, to pick her up, and wrap my arms around.
I stand among the other beasts, i call to the others, let’s move. let’s progress upwards onto this hill, we need to find a deer, a possum, anything to feed our stomachs, to provide us with strength and power… The other animals were less excited, lazier than the deer… we eventually entered the same page… We began to chase down a deer, and the deer progressed out of the premise, our quick steps were no match, we accelerated faster… But the deer was PASSIONATE about his surroundings, he understood the area much more… The next day we saw the deer. And we set our trap, we circled the deer and began to munch on his body, ripping flesh, destroying his caucus. And we learned from then on that sometimes talent beats passion.