Hibiscus

Just like how the Hibiscus flower blooms every morning only to lose its life in the evening...

Just like how beauty is embedded in the soul, features may all be the same, poetry's understanding and feel is embedded in the soul, words may all be the same.

That Hibiscus flower, it may be beautiful to all but no one really cares about its outer appearance for if they did it's death would bring tears but what they yearn for is the fragrance of its dying beauty.

Poetry is a beautiful carnival of words... sometimes a haunted house, sometimes a roller coaster and sometimes a sweet cotton candy. It all lies in the perceiver. For the majority, Poetry is like a Hibiscus flower, beautiful words worth a read but never really remembered except for its essence. For the deep lovers, it's like the feel of its soft petals and every little detail of it, it's remembered in words and feels and not just essence. For another deeper analysis, the minority are those who live to be the Hibiscus. It's very essence, it's detail, it's softness and most importantly it's death journey, all lies in their poetry but it never ends. A new morning brings a new Hibiscus and another evening brings it's end.

Hibiscus
Started on : 4 Jan 2024
Finished on :

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