Majestic was the word that came to mind upon seeing this vision. Elegant and sleek, composed and bearing a sense of purpose that drew observers like fat dizzy bees drunkly worship the hive as they heavily, and with great interest, encircle the magnificent structure.
So much whilst merely being there, existing in solitude. Not a word could be uttered but the room was filled with the sound of sense. And yet all reason was resisted, that which demanded effort was exhausting and was always a stroke away from happiness…and yet another from tragedy.
Still, brilliance and greatness were appropriate adjectives. What a wonder in of itself that something so tremendously desired could be suffocated as it was in the state between fragility and strength. A step towards either direction would have made all the difference but that did not matter anymore.
Not when your desire tends towards this ceaseless obsession with negating itself until it becomes lost in sea of sorrows, failed attempts, and distorted memories.
The rose had been there all along. Had been waiting all along. Anticipating life’s every stroke until there was not any more paint.
