First published on 27 February 2007 @ 3:33
Their humanity sings in tandem with the sweetest white flowers. To touch upon such a creation, to be one and several with its existence, would bring about death through beauty. There are many flowers in which to lay a subtle touch, none worthy of death. For true beauty resides in a freedom, in a release, and what better release is there?
A woman can be likened to a flower this white, a stem of virtue, and petals of creativity and roots of love for each and every one of her creations. Winds of change speaks kindly of such a being, a gracefulness lost and unseen by one who is deficient in judgment, sense, or understanding. An unsightly falsehood reverberated throughout time, one cannot improve upon perfection, and negation results in attempting to do so. So lofty are these traits for those that grab at it without purpose, true meaning, and significant reason, it escapes them every time.
