People die every day. Some we know, and some we don't. No reason why, most of the time. Few are those who live to see old age. Sad is the story of those who die who have done no wrong. Pure of heart, and full of life and love, cut off in their prime. This is a topic that was given to me the other week. I keep finding myself with a need to write, but I can't think up any topics to write about. I know what I want to write about, but without a good strong thread to hold it together, it falls apart beneath my fingers. I wanted to write about love before I was given this topic, I wanted to make real the words in my head, to find a way to place them upon a page, so when I was given this topic, I was able to do so, with added stuff to fit the topic. A dying flower. So much can be said about such a thing. A flowers time is short, and it's beauty passed onto it's seeds. Some would say the beauty of a flower is lost when it withers and dies, but those people would be fools. The beauty lives on inside of us, those who witnessed it's passing, and hopefully makes us better people for having seen such a thing, though we take it for granted. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this. Well, enjoy is a bad word to use, because to enjoy would mean to find a happy ending in it, and maybe you will, but that is uncertain as of yet. I hope you see the beauty that lies in it. That sounds better. Find the beauty of the dying flower, passed onto it's seeds and those that witnessed it's passing. I like that analogy.