In orchards kissed by sunlit gold,
Pomegranates bloom, stories untold.
Crimson jewels, bursting with grace,
Their ruby hearts, a sacred embrace.
A symbol rich, in myths they dance,
Persephone's choice, a fateful chance.
Seeds of passion, a tempting lore,
Each bite reveals love's sweet core.
In ancient tales and whispered dreams,
Pomegranates flow in sacred streams.
A symbol of life, rebirth, and strife,
Threads of destiny, woven through life.
Yet my womb laid bare, a silent plea,
In this symphony of fertility.
Pomegranates, symbols profound,
Echo the silence that surrounds.
The peel may crack, the seeds may spill,
Yet life's mysteries, linger still.
In the garden where myths are sown,
Pomegranates, a story of my own.
A tapestry is woven with threads of despair,
Yet my womb laid bare, a poignant prayer.
In the quiet echoes of love's refrain,
Pomegranates whisper, soft in the rain.
