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Zephyr's Lament

by Thavien Yliaster 7 months ago in heartbreak
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An Olive Branch

Reader discretion is advised: This series contains death, violence, and sexual content. Flowering is not a lighthearted series. Flowering is meant for a mature audience. It is not my intention to mislead those who read it, thus misleading the perception of the series itself, leading your hearts astray.

Please, "take this lesson to heart." - LaRha and Wetah

By Timotheus Fröbel on Unsplash

Mommy, do you like who I am?

I’m changing. I’m glad I am.

Mommy, how did you ever love me?

I was your little man.

You held me in your hands.

I was your little boy.

I brought such little joy.

For I was full of needs.

Just another mouth to feed.

Why was I conceived?

When I have so much greed.


Was I born from selfish hands,

To the palms of a selfish man.

It’s not hard to see.

I didn’t fall far from the apple tree.



Why did you ever bother?

To care for me as well.

Did I not give you hell?


How did it suite you?

You preach about your virtue.

Was she all you had?

Did it drive you mad?


I can no longer hide.

There’s a little boy inside.

Full of joy and sincerity,

Pure with clarity.

Yet, he held me back.

So, I did attack.


He tried to hide.

Within my own mind

So I had to find

Where he hid behind


He went to such distant lands

They seemed O’so grand

I killed him with my own two hands.

Am I now a bad man?


First he tried to huddle,

Then he kicked and struggled.

He gasped for air

I admit, it was not fair.


I don’t know why’d I despise

The look in his eyes

As he begged and cried

That day he died

But did I really win?

Is this not mortal sin?


Once his movements seized

Somehow I was not pleased

He was part of me

Now buried within the earthen sea

Beneath the apple tree

By Timotheus Fröbel on Unsplash


Was it really his fears

Or my salty tears

That stayed for too many years


Now from that apple tree

Did I get to see

He says he does forgive

He grew an olive

By Lucio Patone on Unsplash


Is it really him?

In that olive limb?

Or maybe I’m too dim

Hearing sounds from the wind.


Can he come back?

Will I have to attack?

How will I ever win?

Do I have to kill again


About the author

Thavien Yliaster

Thank You for stopping by. Please, make yourself comfortable. I'm a novice poet, fiction writer, and dream journalist.



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