When you grow up from a toddler walking on four limbs to a person, it’s just like the growth of a small, beautiful, shy bud that blooms step by step, opens one petal at a time…now that shy bud has blossomed into a beautiful Rose.
A rose that embraces it’s surrounding by spreading its leaves like open arms. This newly blossomed flower is pure of heart, individualistic, enigmatic, and glorious in all its beauty. A beauty that is present not just on the outside but also on the inside, a beauty that will reach deep into your soul. If you don’t believe me ask the bees that have become friends of this flower, ask the butterfly who can chatter till no end, ask the birds who never tier of singing praise for this lonely loveliness or ask the wind that carries its fragrance far and long.
But in the shadows lurks the scavengers. They are not some ugly creatures, on the contrary it’s a handsome beauty, but they are ugly of heart and mind. They have claws that don’t tear the flesh rather they breed maliciousness into the mind of others. Once they caught the fragrance of the lonely gorgeousness that the wind was spreading, and now they will prey on it with all the viciousness in them. The creatures of shadow who are not good enough to think the good of oneself can only think malicious of the others. Jealous of the purity of that glorious gem, it being one of its kinds, they prey on it with strategy and softness they camouflage their intensions.
Being kind hearted as was the nature of the rose, it befriended the handsomely darkness. The two faced scavenger would wear the face of a mate in the day and that of an evil at night. The bees, the birds, the butterflies and also the wind had seen the scavenger in action before; they tried to warn the Rose. Alarms where raised, threats were made, plans had failed, they were too late. No talk, no reasoning, no flattery, no sharp worded warning would reach the rose. Unperturbed by the natural drama, the grotesque beast had already sowed the seeds, its roots spreading like wildfire.
Dark whispers in the night by the dark creature turned the rose against its own friends. Happiness at the small victory made the scavenger smile, but it was only a start to all the torments he still had stored in its chest. Soon the rose became a puppet in the creatures hand, first he stripped the gems individuality and ideology, next was the loss of its fragrance, as this sensory sensation was for the amusement of the bees, birds, butterfly and wind, who were now lost to the rose.
Day by day as the roots of the malign seeds spread, turn by turn the glowing excellence lost its charm and gained new qualities as a gift from the dark that had only bad in its store. Gifts of doubt, disgust, judgement, destruction and black words that swivelled its pure soul of its purity. Gifts that were received by the rose for its humble nature.
Terror now took place in the pure heart leaching it of its entire white colour. Distrust made him suspicious of everyone. The once glowing gem was now nothing more than a dark stone. The smooth slender stem now bore pointed, prickly thorns to appease the consciousness of the flower giving it a hollow promise of safety from the enemies in the unknown.
Soon the darkness lost interest in the gem of a rose. The flowing wind unintentionally brought some tracks of a new prey, and this beast got a new sport. As quickly as possible the beast now wanted to conquer its new quest. It left the flower to wallow in its gift of multiple sorrows.
Whatever the malicious beast did to the flower it could not take away its external beauty that till today is still a sight to behold. As the news of departure of the evilness reached the old friends, they ganged up to bring back the gem of a flower to its full glory. “THE ROSE”
As slowly and steadily the mist of darkness lifted from the excellences mind, it came to realise what wrong it had done to its friends. Now free of terror, discarding the gifts of maliciousness, it became a prey of its troubled conscience.
So deeply was it saddened by the wrong it had done to its friend, as was its nature to be humble and kind, the rose lost the desire to live, so encompassed was it in the sadness it never felt pain rather there was only numbness in a void that had no end. The once white heart was now only left coloured in grey. Sadness made this lonely flower to negligent to life. What the cruel beast could not do, wasn’t able to achieve even by its enormous efforts was done by sadness.
The rose lost its colour it had tried to restrict itself so that it could still live, it tried to revert back into a bud were it could be carefree again but the flow of time is not so generous, eventually losing its colour the browned flower withered petal by petal into oblivion.
Bees, birds, butterflies and the wind cried silent tears as they could do not but cry while watching the desiccation of their lovely friend, a friend so pure of heart.
But now they learned a lesson, now whenever a new bud blossoms they preach it to grow thrones as a symbol of the dark treachery and as an assurance of safety.
Even now you can find people who have blossomed into beauties, tend to hesitate to trust easily. The hesitation is a precautious wine of throne around their heart that provides them with some sort of assurance of safety….Just like the beautiful rose that now also bores thorns on it…