“Gusts of fiery winds blow, blasting a furnace of heat. The air rings with the shrill screams of my beloved carnations. Rising and falling, they shed their flower heads upon the worn, foot trodden dirt. Staring up, their heads smile sadly, their petals shedding tears. Rolling across the planks, they reach out for me. The carnation flower's scent is fragrant in the breeze. It wakes me so I escape the dark world of dreams.” EnvironmentMysteryMetaphorFlowersConservationNature S BeautySpiritual ConnectionDark DreamsNatural SpiritCarnation Scent Book:Fleur of Yesterday Source: Fleur of Yesterday