They describe it as a rose, beauty and grace. Kindness and love. Innocence and warmth.
Yet they say that only to trample the rose. Grasp it and yank at it. Hold it and cage it, to keep it for themselves.
So the rose pricks them. As all roses have thorns, thorns they only bear to those who bore theirs first.
Be the innocent flower, yet the serpent beneath it, as Shakespeare once said. Share your kindness to the world but envenomate those who try and shackle it. Not all flowers bear their thorns, but that doesn't mean they're not there.
Show them the consequences of their actions, and that pretty things cover up a darker, more Lilith beauty.
YOU ARE READING
Musings and drabbles
General FictionRandom short writings and pieces, all done by me. They can and will get dark.
