Death Of A Bud
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-The death of a bud-
On the way a tiny flower spilled,
Uprooted from it's anchoring base.
It bled before realizing it's doom.
The Sun rose and it's pain healed not.
The moisture fell on it's drooping petals,
but the vital was not revived.
A group of flowers did inspire with humming strain,
to put the Weeny Ally to life.
The rain with it's venial lustre kissed with fluty fancy.
The Moon with her silvery soup dabbled it with doleful delight.
Before the dawn and the opening of the mighty frame the hapless debonair died.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş