I had planted a seed into the Earth,
as she then gave birth to a lovely flower.
It grew rather wildly and unkempt—
and yet had become something of immense power.
Though, as snow began to hail from the far-off sky,
all of that power slowly began to wither and die,
and the flower would then be quite frail.
It was apparently much too late in season
to have grown such a pleasant beauty.
I knew then that it was my sworn duty
to find another way for her to live.
After all, she was my sole creation,
and her life was all that I had to give—
if only nature would listen to reason.
I forcefully lifted her from her roots
and carried her far and wide across many lands.
I sheltered her, and I kept her warm.
I knew that if she had died, I’d be torn—
thrown into misery, a desolate man.
I had no plan, no “spur of the moment” thought storm.
Though... the snow itself seemed
to be on the chase.
Fluttering white flakes glistened
in the wind.
I quickly began to lose eyesight,
whilst reaching a quickened pace
as we sped down
the powder-covered hillside.
I could see something
far off in the wintry scene—
quite a distance away.
A tree, it appeared, still untouched
by the disastrous blizzard weather.
Grass grew around the tree,
and I knew this may just be
exactly what she would need.
If only I could reach it in time—
and then maybe, just maybe,
she would be fine,
and have the ability to thrive
even in this wintry setting.
I found myself moments later
beneath the warmth of the tree.
Snow covered inches out of its reach,
and yet under the leaves sat only green.
I looked down at the flower
and noticed her color turned sour.
She’d been wilting this entire time—
and I found that she hadn’t made it.
She’d died... and it was my fault.
I thought to try anyway,
and I planted her roots
in the warmth of the soil—
so that she would
no longer be frigid.
Though... it seemed rather rigid
that she was bound to sleep
for all of eternity,
while I sat by her side
for the very last time.
I no longer saw her bloom—
only her wilting end.
I looked down towards her in awe
and noticed another hole in the ground.
Perhaps another flower had rooted
and moved on to somewhere greater?
No... that was not the case.
As I took note and realized—
the chase was nothing but a lie.
I’d found myself back at the same tree,
and then I began to cry.
It appeared now, that on a cold
and snowy day in the midst of winter,
where flowers may possibly bloom—
they do not.
All they do is rot.
And I realized this too late,
as the lovely flower, my child,
wilted much too soon...