Sensitive petals you may have,
With lustful colors do they attract?
And from bud to beauty you once bloomed
Yet suffering and agony is where you loom.
Thunder and lightning you may withstand,
Or the blazing heat in billowing sand.
In breezy winds you may sway
Or in frigid snow you may go astray.
The stem and those under vines
Have kept safety at times,
But falter they shall as the clock ticks by.
And sometime soon, there will come a day,
When the darkness is passed and light is cast.
And from this grip you shall fall
Withered and crumbled to nothing at all.
Those boastful petals now have no show,
Their radiant colors shine no more
Yet cherished they were in the winding past,
What good did they bring you?
Sorrow at las