O Little Bud

O bud, untimely plucked before blooming grace,

An angel betrayed, entrapped in devil's chase,

Denied the freedom to seek love's warm embrace,

Ensnared by vice or lost to lustful fire.

Oh, innocent hearts yearned for love's gentle touch,

Yet met their end in cruel Fate's ruthless clutch,

As vices called or victims of a lecherous crutch,

They found their fate, trapped in the world's script.

Daughters of Heaven, once hailed as blessings pure,

Devoured by cannibals of greed's allure,

In this realm's twisted truth, their souls swayed by the wickedness,

So they crush the little birds, gripping them with mercilessness.

Zainab, Fatima, names that once held sway,

Angelic souls consumed by the devil's trade,

Our very essence lost, we've gone astray,

In Satan's realm, our souls have been cast and made.

Yet heed this truth, for doom does near reside,

No soul exempt from reckoning that's nigh,

For as the bud plucked too soon now seeks to hide,

In heaven's garden, eternal blooms reach high.

The fires of hell may dance with wicked glee,

But little buds shall rise, eternal and free,

In gardens where eternity's truth we see,

Unfurling petals in pure light of love's decree.