I just woke up, thinking about the dead rose that once bloomed so beautifully. But then, one day, I forgot to nurture it. And not long after, it began to wither in my hands. I tried to revive it, but when so...
I just woke up, thinking about the dead rose that once bloomed so beautifully. But then, one day, I forgot to nurture it. And not long after, it began to wither in my hands. I tried to revive it, but when something is fading in our grasp, and that rose no longer wishes to thrive, it chooses to fade The image of a rose that once bloomed but withers because of neglect or loss of care feels like a metaphor for so many things—relationships, dreams, moments we take for granted. The rose, despite your attempts to revive it, chooses its own fate. It's a reminder that sometimes things fade or slip away despite our desires to hold on. Is there more to the story of this rose? Or does this moment stand alone for you?