Frosted Hopes

Flower of your sin

I am a flower you admire

That you keenly chose to pluck

Your passionate desire

Uprooting me of my natural luck

You disregarded my natural fate

And plumped to decide my end

I was destined to mix with soil

But you would rather, I dry in toil

Now I wither among the pages of a book

That you willingly overlook

A plucked flower, your lustful desire

Your odious sin, you hide beneath a romantic attire

Oh the world, hear out this withered flower

Love is magic, as long as you are not overpowered.

- Taiyeba Alamgir