" Delicate touch of pure souls, and unholy touch of evil hearts"
when a little flower, with soft petals
Feels the delicate touch, of pure hopeful souls
It blooms with happiness and joy
Spreading his petals wide, and
emitting the fragrance of self love
And feels one's beauty, within one's self ||
When the same flower, with elegant petals
Feels the unholy touch, of evil hearts
It slowly withers, losing all the essence
Of happiness and joy, hiding one's petals
And crumbling into dust , losing
one's scent of self love , feeling pathetic,
loathing one's self ||
|| But what if
The crumbled pieces of that flower
are reincarnated ? turning him into
a more stronger plant. With a different yet
a powerful essence of happiness and joy.
With new leaves, and a mesmerising glow
Radiating beauty in waves, while his tears
make his leaves sparkles like metaphors...
Making it love one's self, no self loathing
But knowing one's worth, and with it's strong unbreakable roots digging into the depths of the earth inside the ground, such that
No one could push him around, because now he's not weak, he's powerful than he ever was before ||
The flower has learned that his tears are important, they are shiny pearls that are only shed on important people, even if he's molested and abused , he'll not waste them on (his abusers and molesters) but he'll shower them on his loved ones .
~by a mere poet, with sparkling hopes~