Flowers in hopelessness
Flowers were sign of my love that wither away,
Some days ago, were sent, were happy and gay.
They were plucked from the garden, rich in fertile,
There were my emotions and vows in water and clay.
They were hoping, they’ll succeed in convincing you,
They had their own way, with the message to convey.
They held intense emotions and feelings so true.
Messenger of love, that went astray.
Vows of forever and a love shinning through, in each petal,
Their petals once soft, now crumbly gray.
They had whisper of devotion, that never dies.
But now they’re found dried and wilted away.
They were left, without care, no love to share,
They were forgotten in literature books, without sunny day.
In the books, they waited for a reply in vain,
They got a hopelessness and the feelings of decay.
In hope, to convey my heart’s deepest sigh,
Alas, in your books, my flowers are wither away.
By: R. Naheed
