One day, he serendipitously met her, like a nomadic forager
Who comes across a temporary shelter. And slowly — they
Became better friends, who always talked to each other.
But the taste of a bit of nectar — enraptured the bee and
Captured a blurry picture in his imagination. He finally
Knew what he sought after. And its name was, desire.
He wanted more from her, from that towering flower.
A lot more, from that beautiful blossom which had a
Waft of fragrance, that was full of seductive powers.
But soon, spring got over, and the blazing summer
Turned her sour. Then, she started swaying in the
Monsoon showers, which made it impossible for
Him to properly stick to her wet, dancing anthers.
Then, the petals began to wilt, resembling a melting
Sculpture of wax or ice. And the stem began to droop,
Just like some fractured, stooping spinal structure of a
Hunchback. By the time winter arrived, a friendship that
Had until then thrived and survived, suddenly died. Thus,
Nature had a nasty effect, on what could have been so
Perfect, affecting it by inflicting crippling blows and by
Drastically altering and deflecting its course. Meanwhile,
The insect was faced with a conflict of interest. To abjectly
Surrender and keep wondering where they had blundered?
Or to fight with all his might, and do something
That was right, like a noble warrior? He chose
To do the latter. And so, he looped through
The air, and swooped down to reach his
Destination, just like a kite. And amid the
Bright twilight, as the golden sun drowned
Into the westward horizon, the lonely vector
Collected pollen and hugged her until she was
Successfully resurrected. But, it was in the form
Of a fruit, which would grow roots and offshoots
In the future. And that was when he realized that
She would never be his. All they had had between
Them was just a symbiosis. And so, he left her after
Gifting her a new life. And without feeling sorry, nor
Knowing whether she had wept or not, he hurriedly
Disappeared into the opacity of the night. Does a
Bee really care, once it is done with its share of
Duty? Please tell me, because I was speaking
About myself metaphorically in this story.