A flower petal, it is soft, and delicate.
It's a feeling no one can get rid of, When Your sick in bed, Or alone in the rain. That soft feeling is all that you want to wrap around you, Almost drown you.
In the rain, A petal captures the small dew drop that fell from higher then the petals will ever reach. No matter how high the little petal reach, The sky, Is always out of their grasp. Yet the petals always try to reach so high, Then they fall, They float through the air that is as thick as Reality.
It hits the petals like the rain, Force full yet gentle. It pushes the petal through reality down to the cold hard ground. The petal thinks it can get up, And some do, With help by the wind, The cold brush of wind picks up the flower like a mother cradling it's baby. The flower slowly begins to will with out the petals as the petals slowly wither and turn to dust. Almost like Mari's Dreams, She wanted them so badly and now, She's left all alone in the darkness.
The cold Black Darkness.
YOU ARE READING
Practice.
RandomMakes Perfect. // This is me messing around with ideas and thoughts.
