Parched and void I stand among the echoing of deafening silence. The sweltering sun beats down upon my bare back warming my shoulder blades as two of hot steel. Sweat dripping from my forehead and down each crevice upon my neck.
I stand in ontop the hot grains of ground rock feeling the heet pulsing through my flesh and radiating upward through my legs. I can feel the blood within my veins begin to boil. I am alone. I am dissolving. I am scared. I am helpless.
A lone tree stands barron. Its leaves long gone, it hangs it branches twards the ground as if it too was lost and about to die. I close my eyes and see a a tree filled with glorious greens exploding with life. Those days seem to have been years before. I wonder if that tree will ever grow plush again.
The wings blow strongly across the grainy sands of lost time. Past regrets whisk through the air and failures exfoliate my flesh, stripping me down to nothing. A sand storm is on approach. In the distance beyond my heat hazed vision I can see a mound of air filled with the sands that have traveled great distances.
I pull from within all my courage and all my strength. I see the storm approaching. Suddenly I see a piece of hope placed among this dead land, this dead life, my dead self. I have no strength to trudge through the sand but I must because it is calling to me. I am gravitated to it as if it were a magnet but as my weary feet approach I stand with a single rose upon my feet.
The petals are of peach color like my first loves flesh. The green leaves resemble her emerald green eyes. The stem stands long with a single thorn to make all perfections, simply imperfect. The delicate bloom lays on the sands as if it were its home, as if it were waiting to be found.
How long has it been their adding beauty and life to its surroundings of nothingness. How long as it waited to be cared for, to be watered. How did something so beautiful get inside my world?
The storm is brewing and gaining strength from my mistakes. It is moving fast and fierce. I fall to my knees in utter exhaustion and slam my clenched fists to the ground and scream into the air hoping my words will hit the horizon and fly to God.
With my head hung low and my hands folded in prayer, I begin to weap but no tears come. I cannot cry anymore. My tears have long dried, I imagined, until one last tear escaped and fell from my weary eye. It fell upon the rose and its aromas filled my senses. I lowered my head some more to feel the satin petal against my cheek. To feel life near me, beauty pressed against me, and hope to breath life inside me.
The noise became unbearable. Pounding through my ear drums. The storm was here. I looked the storm in the eye and saw its wrath. I looked at the rose and saw its beauty. I held the sand in my palms and felt is emptiness, I held the stem of the rose in my hand and felt its life. I had no choice but to endure this storm if I ever wanted to experience this beauty.
I held the rose against my bare chest and sat against the deadened tree. I crossed my arms and held my delicate flower. I braced myself with my feet dug into the sand. I close my eyes and prayed that I would make it through this storm.
The wind and sand howled around me. My flesh became torn and sore. The pain lasted for hours as the world inflicted its wrath upon me. Maybe I deserved this. Maybe I would suffer for my wrongs. Maybe this storm would destroy me. A single petal fell from the rose in fear. I held it closer. I breathed in its essence and felt its petals texture.
The winds calmed and the sun began to set. The stars above the desert were never ending. Clarity was all abound. Tranquility poured from the dead blue heaven above. My arms slowly uncrossed and the rose fell to my lap where it was illuminated by the moon.
Beauty abound glowing in the nights peace. I rubbed the petals against my skin to feel its beauty next to me. I held it. I caressed it. I smelled it. I soaked it in. I had found my rose among the dead life. I held my rose throughout the storm. Beauty and life was beginning to emerge. My eyes closed under the midnight sky with a flower in my arms. I knew, without a doubt, that tomorrow would offer a world of promise. I had been through the storms of life and found the beauty I desired. Now, it is time to live and overdue to love.
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