A Flower’s Silent Lament

Born of earth and kissed by rain, I rose from darkness, endured the pain. Through storms that lashed and winds that tore, I dreamed of love, I dreamed of more. From fragile seed to tender sprout, I fought the fears, the seasons’ doubt. The sun’s embrace, the moon’s soft glow, Fed my heart, helped me grow. My petals bloomed, a beacon bright, A silent call to day and night. To bees and winds, I offered all, But no one heard my yearning call. No gentle brush of wings took place, No whispers shared in nature’s grace. The dreams of fruit, of life anew, Fell like dew beneath the blue. What is beauty, what is bloom, If destined only for the tomb? A fleeting joy, a silent cry, A flower's fate: to bloom, to die. Yet still I stand, my spirit whole, A testament to nature’s soul. Though barren now, my tale is told, In petals bright and courage bold. Perhaps my fall will feed the earth, And in my death, spark some rebirth. A flower’s song, a fleeting prayer, For love unseen, for life unfair.