The Flower that Forgot the Sun

The Flower that Forgot the Sun

Once I was a burst of light,

A wild bloom on the edge of air,

I opened myself to every storm,

Believing warmth would find me there.

But time is cruel to beauty’s hope,

It takes what glows and leaves the shell,

My colours wept into the soil,

My scent became a fading spell.

Now I stand in painted joy,

A mimic of the life I knew,

Each petal stained by borrowed days,

Each breath a memory breaking through.

The sky above has turned to glass,

It holds no promise, only show,

I ache for rain that never falls,

For roots that reach where I can’t go.

Still I pretend beneath the sun,

As if my wilt could bloom again,

For even dying flowers dream,

That love might come and end their pain.