Lotus
I grew in the mire, soft, yet strong,
A tender heart, that hummed a love song.
The air grew cold, the night too long,
And everything gentle, suddenly felt wrong.
They reached with hands that the dark had fed,
And tore the light from where I bled.
They plucked my bloom with a savage plea,
And tore the innocence right out of me.
I felt myself break, petal by petal,
A crushing weight I couldn’t settle.
The water around me, turned thick and red,
I screamed for help, but silence spread.
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You touch my petals, but they feel torn,
Once soft with love, now bruised and worn.
Your words, like water, once held me tight,
Now ripple shallow, stealing my light.
Do you see the bloom you left to fray?
A fragile lotus, wilting away.
Your hands that once lifted, now weigh me down,
How can I trust the roots you’ve drowned?
I rose for you, through the tainted mire,
But now my bloom wilts, lost and tired.
Can you tend these petals, make me whole,
And bring back the warmth that soothed my soul?
They said I was pure, that I’d never fall,
But purity’s fragile when monsters call.
Now I’m a lotus, torn and stained,
A girl who loved, yet love profaned.
But deep in my core, where the pain runs wild,
Lies the ghost of the girl who once smiled.
Will the water ever set me free,
Or is this pain all that’s left of me?
