To wake up in the morning, trying to keep the sun out not realising that the sun is unrelenting as unrelenting as time. The flower wants to crumble in the summer, the stalks which hold the flower, hold on to it, keep it from un-withering, keeping it afloat in the middle of their own design, a design they do not understand yet they carry on.
Such is the bitter sweet restraint of nature, it makes the flowers yearn to wither not realising that there is a greater design and it's a bit of the whole.
"So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days, And steal thyself from life by slow decays." - Homer
Such is the bitter sweet restraint of nature, it makes the flowers yearn to wither not realising that there is a greater design and it's a bit of the whole.
"So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days, And steal thyself from life by slow decays." - Homer
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