Innocent Vengence

A precious petal ripped
Pierced thrashed by thorn
A place where dreams die
Vengeance pulse is born
A thousand splendid suns
Blinded by fury storm
Silence of broken wails
Waits for golden dawn

At violet hour of dusk
Icicles of helplessness shine
Pride won’t let them flow
Edging crystals for time
The thorn will forget
But not the flower
Though wounds are healed
Deep runs the scar
Be not the thorn
Nor break the dreams
Every single bloom matters
However small it may seem ……….
© ANKITA CHATURVEDI

 

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