There is a virus. Everyone has lived it, or will soon come to confront it. Merciless as it is, no benevolent heart is excused from its reach. It is not a normal virus, as you see, it does´t feed from the flesh nor the blood, it strikes the soul and untangles the mind. There is a cure, so they say, but how can you prove that, when so many live in dismay?

A few youthful years ago, I was an untouched, beautiful flower. Ready to sprout into a gorgeous and carefree self, my radiant fervor to live was as tangible as a brick. I blessed the morning, rejoiced the day and accepted the dusk. No one was as privileged as I was, so I believed.

The beautiful creature that gave shape to my heart and mended my life, was pleased and caring for the daughter she had raised. No one, that creature believed, could ever take her blessing´s determination of life and jubilation. How could she ever have imagined, that one day, the virus will come to sweep it all away.

I remember, the virus took me with it with astonishing swiftness, not even the feather of the bird could simulate how intricately had the virus calculated its way. The inexperienced,susceptible child was indeed being taken away.

It´s weird, how you perceive the changes in your loved ones first, the long faces, bruised under-eyes and bipolar temper. My mind was sure and I trusted it, I was not taken by the virus. No pretty flower as me could be infected by its demonic thorns.

Oh dear Lord, have I never been so wrong?

Restless nights did I pass, slowly drowning into contempt, one thing I was sure I would´t fall for. The roots that once firmly kept my soul rigidly balanced and well-nurtured, were slowly withering away. How blind-folded I was, my dear loved ones, those who were deeply tied to my heart, were less wounded than I was.

How could they not warn me? The way I was stupidly being lied to by an insincere killer organism. To my surprise, the virus was not one of a kind. They say, once it reaches you, it decides to hit were it will probably leaves a more brutal scar. How scared was my soul, who could´t decipher where the virus originated from.

Regardless, everyone seemed to know exactly where it fed from. Apparently, I was´t capable of identifying it myself. With extreme honesty I can now say it did´t exactly hurt, sometimes I believed it was becoming part of who I was entitled to be all along.

As any virus, it had it stages, one more prominent than others. I experienced a few heavy and dreary ones, phases of anger, despair, rage and solitude came to break away my peace.

They did warn me once, and only this was what they told me, the virus may have no other cure than the precious blessing of time and rehabilitation. Both did I try them, both did they fail. How stupid that I could´t see, the cure that will reborn me was the easiest of them all.

The beautiful flower that I was, just a reminder of my past, was being held by the hydration of hope and aid that That Creature gave away.

Without further due, I will pleasantly calm your jitters , my heart and the extensive care from my loved ones proved the virus otherwise. That foolish, filthy organism, messing with the flower who was loved despite the rest.

Now do I know the source of my infection, however, I will never know if with malicious or unconscious intentions was it transmitted to my fragile self.

I say beware, this cockroach-ick ,resistant virus faces no age, as it perdures through the years and is rather a sophisticated, mutant killer. Most say it hits everyone differently; I´ll say smart and gallant are virtues in which this virus is blessed upon. Forgive me if I´m wrong, but its insightful ways brought me torment since the day my darkness begun.

Dear Reader do I invite you to bless the language with the sound of your voice, golden will it become when your anguish is undone; nonetheless, I know well, such petition would require an answer from myself, and I will kindly accept that mine was the exhaustion of demanding extreme beauty, one I later knew, was found from within.

Your most dear ones, you see, their flesh and blood will mend into the killer of your pain. The medication of your body but the redemption of your soul. Do not hide from their love, loving is no easy you see, love withers with time when it has no one else who seeks. Therefore in my experience I give gratitude to the love my body was medicated with, one I learned, was the sign to the journey that guided the beginning of my new fate.

Now I am not only a flower, low and behold, I am a seeder. My new voyage entailed a completely different perspective and purpose in life. Beauty is found in every single human cell of your body, and now, I am in charge of planting hope in each of you who has summoned my words, in feeding constant love, contentment and positiveness, but most importantly, in harvesting souls who will geniwully continue to spread immunity towards the virus.

Thankfully,

I know,

I´m sure,

my next seeder

is found in you.