All pretty and pink yes?
Soothing to the eyes, wow: What a beautiful rose !
That aroma, those soft petals
Be it pink, be it white, be it any color.
A rose has it’s own aura.
It blooms, and blooms………..
One fine day, it withers just like how a person ages, just like how leaves fall, just like how feelings fade with time.
It’s color changes,
No more it’s pink, no more is it’s own color, it becomes something that it never might have wanted to be, it becomes something that it has never dreamt to be, but it becomes eventually what it has to be .
Withered, petal- less, fallen, old, no aroma, and also no life.
Thus, we all become like one in the end.
Nothing remains, nothing. Oh. Just nothing .