You are the rose who can’t even see the concrete it is famous for growing from.
Weary traveler bleakly pressing your way towards the mountaintop, it seems impossible that breaking through the concrete was ever deemed a victory.
Ducking the stones from the ones who once praised your bravery, dear rose… give yourself grace… you did not know.
You did not know royalty goes unnoticed when clothed in the struggles of civilians. The king makes the crown, but the crown keeps the eye of the people. That’s why the statement is so falsely regal, it’s not kneel before the king, it is kneel- before the ring of golden steeples.
Respect the crown.
A chilly revelation to match the icy sting of struggle that you never expected.
Wondering why you climb, even as you seek the next cleft in the rocks.
My friend… full blossom wasn’t the destination. In a commonly rare case of defied expectations, you the rose are being called to- elevation.
Your heart is trying to fail within you, but you must not let it.
You are no failure.
You are the Rose.