Rose Of Solitude

I made you a rose. A yellow rose, to be precise. Why rose? Why yellow? Why now?

Why solitude?

There's a dark prophecy about the yellow rose.





When you receive a yellow rose from someone you love, the tree of love inside you will wilt. You will miss that person, but you could never find the impulsive love again.

I used to think that I'm not a person person who believes in horoscope and those myths as well as the legends. To me, yellow rose is just a yellow rose. It signifies nothing, it proves nothing.

I used to believe. I used to.

Not until I folded you my first yellow rose. It's so delicate in my hands and I was afraid to crush her. Everything was magical. Though i tried to be casual, to my dismay, I couldn't. While I held her in between my fingers, i felt life. Life that is neither present nor past. People call it memory, I call it love.

Love is a large illusions. Delusional it is, I succumbed into her hug, accidentally, painfully. I define love as a life that is caught right between present and past time. It can be skewed to either side. Nostalgic love, passionate love, those are lives created by you and me.

Then suddenly, it's all gone, like a bubble, disappears without a trace. Reluctantly, I'm hoisted to the present, facing my coldest nemesis. Life is my nemesis. Every time i stray too far away from my path, he drags me back, mercilessly, forcefully.

Solitude is omnipresent. Final drip of passion evaporates and coldness descends. Time has come. She walks among us, breathing word of wisdom into our ears and she sings...

Why you despair?
Why you refuse to leave?
Why you stand still?
Why you weep?
Why you remember?

We forget everything.... I forgot, i returned to my life, I faded...until I made the yellow rose once again.

She brought back everything. The apparition of everything is just too astounding and all of a sudden, I find myself breathless again, just like the first time I saw you.

Friendship, is the mother of everything. Slowly she morphed, painfully she crawled, exuberantly she summoned me. What an amazing yellow rose I have folded! Effortlessly, she explained everything and I listened like an obedient school boy.

That's it. That's it. Friendship! One term that has been absent in me for quite some time. She is the mother of love. She is everything I have.

Even though it's just a friendship. I tried to care and I will continue trying.

Oh, you are the jollity.


Oh, you are the friendship.


Oh, you are the life.

Rose of Solitude