Glass Rose

Oh such a fragile flower made of glass... how do you survive at such great heights? must you make it so hard to reach? Even after the mountain is conquered and all heights are reached how to pluck such a flower? how to hold such fragile grace? All i see is shattered fragments left from my fumbling hands with drops of blood and shards of glass scattering the ground. No glass rose can stand, an impossible task to bring one home, but to give up is not an option. NO! I will descend this mountain top with scared, broken and bloody hands holding the essence of purity and grace oh so painful is a glass rose, but the beauty is worth the pain... is the beauty really worth the pain?