A seed encrusted in the earth's uterus began to grow.
The dew's twinkle brought life once again.
Nestled in vibrant warmth,
cozy in its humble place
it strived for longevity.
By daybreak, the moths fluttered by
as the drought of uncertainty cursed its natural course.
The premature colors faded,
thorns collapsed ...
Its petals began to slip,
sliding down the tunels of its own beginings.
Soon it was bare ...
Left was a shriveled, baby bloom forbidden to blossom.
An essance never known to exist
washed away by the past's mischeif.
An aroma of the deceased intoxicated my nostrils
as I lay in the nude under the moon's light
watching my own creation
reject its only form of strengthening.
A deteriorating fragrance enveloped in my senses.
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