Transfixed

The vision of a pale black rose illuminates the deapths of my mind as I search for what, I don't know. I wonder if it thinks, if it feels for the dying red rose beside it. Or if it sees the death as an addition to it's self. Weak minds can't conjure what it must be llike to witness something so powerful and radiant. An empty soul shows no scars, it's life has nown no pain, no tragedy, no trauma. It holds no albatross. The inception of it's life might as well be it's end, in the sense that it knows no feeling. Watching this, I also begin to wonder the purpose of it's life. Why something that has no emotion must exist in the world. But also why it has an impact on our emotions. What about it makes us feel compelled to symbolize it to something? As I launder my thoughts away, I realized the rose has passed.