Ask the bee

Yesterday's avarice found place in a meeting before death. I found solace in knowing we had something in common. Avarice alone could not have summoned me to that dark alley of my life. There, there in the gloomy atmosphere of the glade hid love. I lost it all to love. How odd, that one must first love, then lose, and through loss commit the most atrocious of oddities pondered by anyone, all in the name of reason nonetheless.
When we are lost we aren't weak, we are merely seeking vengeance, for the time in our lives that we let ourselves be conned to that degree which leaves us perplexed and utterly useless to anyone, especially ourselves. How, I ask myself, how can a person endure the depths of this abyss and come out stinging anything knowing full-well that first stinging will be the last? It's a matter of principle is what it is. See, it's not the action. It's not the sting itself, it's the desire not to harm, but to rather die than let that action go without a reaction. In a world where every action is met with reaction and often disdain perhaps we need a bee to teach us a thing or two about humility, about what it is to truly live and let others choose without ill will, to allow choice without regard for what will never affect you directly, and most importantly, to allow the overwhelming odds against us to stack up for in choice we will make the right one and die trying. Ask the bee.