A petal dropped from the rose, past the thorns that pierce the skin and break through the very heart of my agony. I know that in time all wounds heal, but with no one here to heal my wounds, how am I to survive? Let alone help someone else in need? But when the rose's petal drops to the ground the rest of the petals will be assurring that more are yet to fall. With each petal that falls there is a great event and for every thorn there come tragedy.
After the thorn pierced my skin it went deeper and farther into my lost and confused heart. No hope of pulling it out from this excrutiating pain. It starts to feed off of my unprotected heart, like a leech sucking the very soul right out of me. It grows inside for the longest time, with no one to heal the wounds it caused. But, with each passing moment the pain increases, not by much, but enough to cry.
Then after so long of being pinned inside myself the petal finally falls. Much pain came from my heart as the leech inside of me is pulled out. Torn from the very home it created inside of me. The pain as bad as if the leech was still inside of my soul. My mind grows weary and sleeps for some time. When I awake I see a dim light in which a mysterious face warmly welcomes me back to reality.
The thorn that once pierced my skin was finally out, but in the process my body and soul were left weak enough to die. Deep wounds penetrated from the inside-out. Feeling the burn and relief of medicine slowly healing me to a life I once had. But, those who created my wounds didn't realize something. If someone can create those wounds, someone else can surely heal them. The face grew clearer and brighter as my vision began to come back in full repair.
The rose was no longer covered in thorns, but instead was full of life and colors unimaginable. Its beauty was great, but my weary eyes could only awaken to the brilliance and stare in awe. Its beauty grew larger when I smiled. Seeing the one who saved me from my almost inevitable fate raised my hopes to new heights, thinking I can recover from the tragedy that befell me. His face gleamed and flawless smile embraced me.
The rose was bright and beautiful just like the one who healed me. He started to speak but I could not understand him, his words were of different tongues. My ears filled with a sudden knowledge of this language, something I do not remember ever learning. I understood everything he said, his words were as graceful as his inner beauty that shone before me as I stood on my own two feet again, with him holding my hand.