1.
In scorched earth it stirs .
a single bloom dares to rise.
Hope curls in silence
2.
Ash clings to each leaf,
yet it lifts its face to sky,
drinking in the grey.
3.
No hands reach for it.
Still, it opens, soft and wide —
a vow without voice.
4.
The air begins to scream.
Dark wind peels its life away.
Beauty cannot breathe,
5.
Flames consume the root,
One petal drifts through the smoke.
The world looks away.
Tenebrae.