Lukewarm drops of water leak from above
Of a barren derelict well
Trickling down, catching the bits of sunlight
Amidst the littoral of aches at the bottom
A lone daffodil lies tossed in the turbid abyss
The plain beauty returns to the long-buried well.
With the soft aroma muffled in the quagmire
The scent lingering in the air like a vibgyor bow
It lies dispiritedly in the darkness, panting for breath
Expecting the fugitive breath of life
When the halcyon rays falls from the heavens
The nights soaks the shining light
creating a starlit silent path of life
Like the sound of crushed glass rubbing against silk
the wind suspires overhead
The daffodil settles in darkness again
After the spark dies and waits.
Some suggest to seize any good
from the depths of the well
Leaning against the worn out stones
to pull up the waving daffodil
Reaching for its stem
the invisible thorns fires back, bosoming its foe
The blood courses from the palms
The daffodil sticks to a hopeful ribbon of life.
Rain oozed into the ground
Till it scintillated like a lucent opal
But only to be swamped in the mire.
The flower appeared to sigh with pain
Giving up its grasp on surviving any more
The heartache inscribed in my own pump.
The first petal falls from the weak stem
Thus ending the lulu that once lived there
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