Why

In this unforgiving, barren land, I grow from roots that grip the parched and arid earth. Spared by a relentless sun, I am allowed to rise. Yet this pardon, I must question. I've asked for no such mercy to endure the howling wind, this heat, not merely surviving– but blooming. I fear a coming catch, a price unspoken, a toll unseen, against which I must guard. A shield of distrust surfaces, sharp, defensive spikes among the flowers that dare show color here. And I remain resilient, wary and wondering why.