It's a little budding bud, trying to flare its sprouts
like fire-eater heaven blast, finally rejoin
and met, where water mourned for hope, sights.
It's spell of hope that glorifies, anticipate nature's
million mysteries, like youthful joy: only sustainable
for a time, until darkness nibbled on the graves.
A little while, a little bit: the fire rose blasted,
finally gnawing the amber glow, breathing from
hidden heart, thump, thump, thump!
Faded, failed, withered, escalate, beauty of buds:
re-joying where tears dwell, fall and died,
but, but— I was the worm that lurked inside.
Awake, awake, hear the roar of ferocious winds
beauty once stolen, now grimace and waves,
winter howls and rain drives: perhaps the heart knew it shrunk.
But— worms never leave their roots,
for sweet the sight, for spicy the smell,
Only I was sullen, in dead crests!
little budding rose never leaves its home
fire glow rounded in the globes!
— 4th September, 2023
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PoetryFeatured on @WattpadPoetry / 16.04.2023 ❝ sometimes we find the words, yet somewhere they find us, together we dive into the ocean, unknown to the world, unaware of the uncertainty ❞ ━━━━━━━━━━━ n e w poems are always added in the beginning. Q u...