hanblogs:

And a relationship begins, of a flower and its tale with nature. It begins with a seed in soil. A downpour of rain brings but a single drop of water to the seed, to touch upon its soul, to stir the life that exists within. This gesture is not meant to be taken superficially, it is a romantic symbol. It is a unique feeling shared between them as young lovers, an invisible bond that has begun its weave around them binding them. The seed expands with a joy never felt before, jolts of electricity, flowing through every vein, pumping it with life, maturing it into a bud. The wait for spring seems endless, but both know it will come, and spend every moment together thinking about the coming of such a memorable, happy moment in history. Spring comes, the flower blossoms and the sun shines, floral scents pour out, celebrating the joyful bliss shared by these conjoined souls. It is a blissful dream and the two are lost in world where they see each other only as their only need, and the happiness they feel is overflowing, almost suffocating. It feels as if it will never cease, a fire that has begun to run repent, a feeling of unconscious bliss. However, it is only a dream, and as night falls, the two slowly fall back into reality, feeling the cold and the darkness. It was not the great orchestra of happiness it was just a short moment ago, no it was something dull, and boring, the world that seemed full of color all of sudden seems drained of life, bleak, starved. Winter has come and the flower strains to live on, but how can it? When there is no sun to proclaim its glorious rays of affection upon it. It is a mutual feeling of depression, a sinking realization that end is closing in, flooding the mind, the feel is no longer suffocating, but drowning. The flower is stormed upon, gusted, the petals being torn off, the stem broken and bruised, and the roots, the origin that begun both harmony and chaos, ripped and robbed of everything.

  9:59 pm  |   September 29 2011   |  2 notes