The Lonely Flower

A.J. Hughes (U.S.)

In the darkness of night, on a soiled path, is a lonely flower.
Every night, the flower waits for someone to recognize its beauty.
But no one arrives.

Unable to appear in the daylight,
when the sun offers warmth to other flowers,
the lonely flower emerges at night when it’s safe.
It admires the bright and colorful flowers of day,
wishing it could become as vibrant as they are.

But…even the moonlight chooses to cast away from this flower.
It faces towards the moon,
hoping its light will soon shine upon it.
Eager to grow strong
recognized for its beauty and grandeur.

The flower desired attention from someone or something.
Anything that would look upon it with admiration.
With no one to take care of it,
the lonely flower waters itself,
at least, as best as it could.
When it’s done, it smiles to itself, and says, “I did a good job.”

The lonely flower continues to wait
for someone who will never show.

On a deserted path, in the middle of night,
the lonely flower waits,
until the last petal falls.

 

Return Me to Darkness

By A.J. Hughes

Lost and afraid. I am trapped by what I fear most. I can’t breathe. The world around me moves at a speed I cannot follow. I have never seen these things around me. Where am I? What have I done? Electromagnetic waves threaten to shatter me. I retreat. Blinded. I flee, desperate to return to where I belong.

Nothing waits for me in the light of day. I am alone and terrified. Floating through an endless sea of disingenuous creatures, mindlessly soaking in the sun as it tears me asunder. Their smiles, etched into the back of my mind, my body quivering in a searing-hot breeze. Their loud, boisterous laughter, like nails against a chalkboard. Don’t come near me. Stay away. How much longer do I have to endure the horror that is day?

The light is too bright. It bores into my eyes, violently and ever so cruelly. With nowhere to hide from its nuclear glow, my skin burns with an intensity that cannot heal. I hide behind the silhouettes of the egotistical. How long must I suffer? When can I go home? When can I return to where I belong?

Darkness looms, cast into the moonlight in the solitude of night, my soul is at ease. Enveloped by the euphoria of quietness, a cessation to the endless assault on my eyes. The cool breeze purified and washed away the agony of daybreak from my skin. I become potent, magical, and restored to my full glory.

The dark is my savior. No creatures of day to fog my mind and harm me. Traversing the world of night, may it guide me to where I belong.