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| <<<>>> |
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Indigo |
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| Created by Decius at
| [+ favourites]
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Take my flowers, take my blue rose, the rarest of them...
I climbed mountains and suffocated...
I found thousands of red ones, perfect red ones. I cut myself on every one.
But I wanted to find you blue ones. The rarest of them.
Weary, full of stench, I stumble on your doorstep.
My clothes are tattered, my hair is long and my breath is fowl.
I do not speak nor smile for I fear you will smell my breath or see my stained teeth.
I bow my head down and pull out a perfectly wrapped package with my callous hands.
And an immaculate blue rose illuminates the scene.
It is so blue, so pure and deep in its resolution. Every petal, an example of remarkable craftmanship.
Its smell, purer and more gentle than anything smelt. Its color so vast it looks like the sky on a cloudless summer day.
It's said to have magical powers, I whisper under my breath.
But it falls to the ground and I look up at your fingers.
You begin to weep... and I ask you why, tears filling up mine.
I do not love you. I tricked you with my enchanting blue rose so that you may be bled by its thorns.
You are certain. And you close the door.
I am immovable, and I stare at the crushed rose.
Did I plan to cut you?
I spend the rest of my life wondering, alone in the dark.
But something happened, the night I left, my soul in chaos.
When you heard me part, you opened the door and knelt down besides the immaculate blue rose.
Magical powers indeed, you scoff.
Yet...
Yet, as you brushed it away with your wounded hand, the color of the rose all at once dissapeared.
And as you examined it closely to find out why, you found yourself staring at your wounded hand.
But it was no longer wounded. |
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| Created by Decius at
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