The Rose's Silhouette

There's more to a flower...

In a vast field sunlight beams down. 12 in the afternoon, school's still in so there are no kids around. Temp is about 90, some flowers crumble under the heat, plus it's dry…hasn't rained all week. Bumblebees are active, sucking whatever they can; they'll give the honey up unwillingly in a bid to feed man. As it gradually get hotter the bees start to dissipate, & the number of flowers that have died is a number that's great. There is a harsh wind that whips the flowers' about, wind so great some flowers' roots are pulled out. School is finished kids come to play with the flowers, but if one has thorns it will be devoured.

You can't eat one, but you can detach it from its family, the flower, if able to speak would beg for amnesty. It's about 2 now, temp rose to 105, some flowers still stand, it's a miracle they're alive. The wind whips again, harsh but precise. You'd think one gust was enough, but it flew in twice. All the bees are gone, the new batch is not as good, but they will suffice. The queen is reluctant to give any but she has no choice, it's futile to fight. It's too bad the bees were not a MASTER of their craft, & had to be there for a price, this joint is just a giant metaphor for a slave's life.

The roses are the slaves' humanity, but when you make them bees they cause internal anarchy. Self-consumption combined with beatings equal death, so when the baby girl who smiles cuz she saw mommy & daddy in a dream, has to wake & realize it was just their Rose's Silhouette…

**Fueled by passion, drvien by pain before I die the world will know my name**

- JioVanni