There was once a bud,
enchanting and glowing red.
All the flowers were jealous,
for she was the center of focus.
She bloomed into magnificence,
smart and witty, brimming with confidence.
One day, a man won her over,
none knew, he was a demon undercover.
He ripped her apart,
and slashed her heart.
With his fingers of fire,
he plucked her petals of desire,
one by one,
till she felt completely numb.
She lay there, almost dead,
yet, he expected her, to still be fragrant.
She slowly opened her eyes,
to see, new petals of love arise.
To him, she will always be dead.
To him, nothing more will ever be said.
For those who deserve,
she was still eager to serve,
spreading her fragrance of love,
flying like that free, peaceful dove.
This poem is about a person who is very important to me. I have seen her life get completely crushed by the man she married, the one whom she thought would share her “fragrance” and not snatch it away from her. I wish she would escape from him. Everyone deserves happiness, right?