The Watching Flower

The Watching Flower

Beneath a sky of faded silver,
A lonely flower learned to wait.
Its petals curled around one watcher,
An ancient eye that challenged fate.

It never blinked through passing seasons,
Nor turned away from joy or grief.
It watched the proud become forgotten,
Like autumn stealing every leaf.

Children laughed and wandered past it,
Lovers carved their names in trees.
Years erased their whispered promises,
Still the flower swayed with ease.

It saw the lies behind fine clothing,
The tears concealed by painted smiles.
It knew the weight of hidden sorrow,
That followed souls for endless miles.

The wind would ask what truth it guarded,
The rain would wash its face with care.
It answered only through its silence,
For every secret rested there.

If one dark night its eye should close,
The stars might lose their oldest friend.
Until that hour it stands in stillness,
Watching stories without end.