in a deep dark forest beyond the outer bounderies of the earth there is a garden where dreams are known as reality. A garden where the rarest flower blooms. A White Rose. Ever shadowed, yet ever scorched by sunlight. Bees often steal my nectar, animals often scrape my thorns, and smash my stem. Yet in the end I still bloom whiter than the moon. My colors are brightest in night, and night is where and when I am awake. Always praying upon the dusk to settle in, and the twilight to make me real agian. My stem is black with sharp thorns, and tipped with a red substance known as blood, the blood of the animal that nearly smashed, and destroyed me. My nectar is of poison thoughts that destroys the bee when he stings me, and then steals a part of me. I wish I could escape and find other roses that are just as white as me. Only in the end I am still convinced that I am the one, only, and very lonely. The most unique flower in the dark garden of reality, A White Rose.