A flower withers away Its petals desperately defiant, Its soul struggling to hold on yet another day.

The being ponders Why am I holding on to a definite entity? My petals fall by the hour, and my soul greets the darkness warmly, Have I, after all this time, not attained my true identity? Must I sustain death and what follows it in order to reach what I aspire? She did not comprehend that death had robbed her of life, a true felony Her fingers hastily point to death, yet she did not gravely notice, The affinity they both had for one another, a deathly similarity.

Her obscure thoughts lead her to an unexpected abyss Full of discouragement and an infinite amount of taunts, The shadows mock her hope, their sharpened whispers pierce through her dreams like a forced kiss She paces and jogs in the darkness, begging for a miraculous escape,

The desperate flower disregards her roots and concentrates on her withering petals, attempting to attain what she dearly missed.

As I stare day after day, the petals begin to rise The flowers slanted body looked towards the sun, Its dreams finally given a definite path and sign And as I stare at it all once more I finally realize, The defiant flower and its petals were I.