Of Some Within
Exist in all yet partook by some, so is the rose, the lotus, that blooms only at night. It is never seen, nor is it hear of. To look upon it is to bring its death, thus it stays hidden, only appearing when none are near, and where there is much fear. It is Death; the Black Lotus now walks the Earth. She moves to and fro, and He move to and fro; for there are always two, and beyond two, there is none. In the middle of muck and mire, and amidst great veins of modernity, they spawn, breed, rise above their lands and blossom. A Pedal is spoken of, it only reveals one at a time, sometimes not revealing at all. To see even one pedal, to know of its existence, is to justify an entire lifetime in frivolous pursuits. The Lotus is Black, there is no question; this is how it hides in shadow, more specifically, your shadow.