A warrior’s sting


The bee buzzes, flying in the afternoon sun.

They came, not from the sky but from a hive.

It was a hive of distrust and betrayal.

Buzzing and dancing the bees fled from a dying land.

They fly, oblivious to the pain they cause.

While responsible for life their stingers,

can cause death.

They swarm as a group, attacking any outsiders.

Their loyalty lies with the group.

Those who wish to become one of them,

simply cannot.

Their method of communication makes all attempts at diplomacy fail.

When aggravated they valiantly go to their deaths, not for the individual but for the sake of the swarm.

Such and enemy will never be stopped

only delayed.


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