By Hareeba Tirmizi
it’s never all good,
read the board
of the garden she trespassed into.
The bunch of red roses,
that dragged her out of the colourless world,
stood with their stardom,
in the middle of the land.
Their alluring scent,
their bright shades,
sure did appear
as a succour in her times of dullness.
She caressed the petals,
felt the softness between her fingers,
it had never been this merrier for her.
The twinkle in her eyes,
as that of the drops of dew,
resting on the edges of the flower.
She had finally found an ideal ally,
one that would fly her to the content,
she had longed for.
Courtesy her desires,
with an attempt to grasp them,
to have them alongside when she goes back,
to savour her remaining time,
to keep them to herself forever.
Brooks of the scarlet liquid,
oozed down her arms.
She was smiling,
She was hurting,
but she couldn’t let go.
She just couldn’t let go of the blooms,
those blooms she came to know as
(This post contains affiliate links. See my disclosure about affiliate links here.)