Its like a magnetic field. It resonates words, whispers, noises. We find it hard to ignore. It easily consumes us, our mind, our every thought. We try to over come it, it viciously bites us back. It lingers after it is silent in the room. When we are left alone, the presence of it creates a dark shadow over our eager body. It attacks.A fierce wind rips maroon petals off its stem. The strong green stem grows timid and weak. The stem croaches over in defeat, lowered to the ground. All of the petals are gone, and the stem is bare and naked. Revealed. The beauty of each petal and the unique fragrance is blown away to a distant muddy puddle. The petal floats in the water, lost without its structure. It is calm now. It tenderly blows upon the petals to create a small rotation. From a distance, blurry maroon petals stir in the water, round and round. Eventually it wins, and all of the sweet petals feel the weight of the water. Pulled back to the moist brown Earth.