Category: Writers Block
I was strolling through the garden of a house made of crystal,when I stumbled upon a bed of gorgeous glass roses.Carefully I picked the tallest 1 and held it against the mid-day sun,which was beating down on the garden
made of coloured glass,it was so pure and beautiful,I with it's petals fashoined with great care.
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I loved how it caught the light and it's colours,sparkled against the bright blue sky above,then when I realised it would never fade,or wilt like every rose I had held before I almost wept with joy. With the wind at my back and the silken grass at my feet, I gripped the rose tight and kissed it gently on its cool petals.
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Feeling its perfection against my lips.But when I glanced to the ground I saw 3 drops of crimson slide down the rose's smooth stem and land the dust below
On my hands were 7 cuts.And on the rose were 7 blood-stained thorns,"Even glass roses have thorns" I mumbled to the earth .But unable to bear the pain I set the rose down on the ground thinking I could see it another day...When I returned many years later I found the garden of glass shattered and in the middle lie the broken shards of my gorgeous rose...