End of a dream

A bud on a rose plant waited for the day it would bloom. It waited with lots of dreams; with lots of hope. It was beautiful, even at its tender age. Day by day, its beauty increased. Early in the morning, the sun kissed it with lots of love. The dew fell on it without waking it up. It was more beautiful at this time. Bees waited for it to bloom, to get the nectar. The thorns never slept on fear of its safety. The whole universe waited for it to blossom. One fine day, it became a pretty flower from a baby bud. The dew gave it a fresh bath in the morning. The sun sat looking at it the whole day. The thorns became more happy and relieved to see the grown up bud. Everybody came to see it. They smelled it and kissed it with love and grace. It stood proud in between all of them and felt safe and secure.

The thorns went to sleep after a long time, confirming the flower`s safety. When it woke up, the first thing it did was search for the rose. Unfortunately, it was missing. The thorns looked all around. Finally, it was found lying on the ground, half dead. Its face was full of injuries. It had been torn into pieces. All the petals were separated and it lay naked on the bare soil. All it could do was curse itself for taking birth as a flower. It laid there for a long time before dying. The sun grew pale and went to hide in the west and cry. The dew did not come for hours. The thorns cursed itself for the fate.

The flower was taken away by the cruel wind. It had the courage that there was no one to question it; and the courage that it could escape anywhere. It had destroyed the lives of many flowers and there was no one to question it. It lived in the nature without a mask, even after that. Still, there was no one to question it and it had the courage that no one would.

_ �sK�