flowers that grow on the mountain
face adversity alone
so few dare to admire their beauty
for they risk not making it home
solitude makes them precious
I wonder
do they fear not finding a home
I have traversed many mountains
I fear none of life's challenges
I will walk this treacherous path
to admire the beauty of untouched nature
it pains me to watch the flower bloom
but dare not touch it
the mountain is its home
perfection deserves worship on its own terms
to change it is selfish
the world maintains its own balance
we should not take what we cannot love properly
some flowers have to grow on the mountain
About the Creator
Hufflecup
I want nothing more than to dedicate my life to writing, so I figured I would start here to test the waters. I will be submitting stories to as many communities as possible.
Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford4 days ago in Fiction
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