The flower has nectar, which becomes honey..
The flower has pollen, that migrates to create legacy..
The flower has honey bees attracted to it..
The flower has so much to handle..
The flower is busy, nurturing It’s petals..
The flower is anxiously sucking in water, water from the earth..
The flower is loved and looked upon for a variety of dreams..
From quaters so unknown!
But the flower withers..
Destroying the beholders trance..
Destorying the honey bees chimera..
Breaking free from water, the nourishers adulation..
What remains of the flower..?
The flowers identity, for it’s foundly cherished in epoch!? I know not..
Life is Beautiful..