I planted a seed on a hilltop.
I nutured it everyday with love.
From spurt to mighty flower.

I thought I had done right,
Until the day It spoke,

"Am I the same as you?"

"You're so much more."

"Then why must I be made to endure life?"

I paused for some time.
To It, existence was torment.
To I, existence was.

I had given It everything to survive.
But no purpose.
Was I to blame for Its pain?

"Why didn't you say so sooner?" I inquired.

"I was waiting."

"For?"

"My purpose." The flower replied as It began to wilt away.

What kind of horror?
Punishment,
For bringing life into this world?

Nothing remains of my effort.
Nor it's existence.
I should've learned a lesson,
But I can't see it.

Another seed will be planted tomorrow
And I will continue my ways,
Until I understand a flowers purpose.

May creation fuel my ambition,
Let death not soil my success.

And once I have perfected flowers,
May I begin to plant humans.
Adam shall be first,
Eve second.

© ManWithoutSelf