Your Lilly

What they thought was a Lilly,
Bloomed faster than hoped.
Looking at the sun,
She assured herself to be the flower;
The flower they said she was.

She bloomed hoping for the stars,
But met the moon instead.
Falling slowly in love every time,
While dreaming about the stars,
Denying her desire for the wrong.

The sun came every morning.
Envious of the story he heard
Of the Lilly and the moon,
Burning the brightest that day,
He sneered at the Lilly,
Burning her with him.

Losing all the life she had,
Thinking of the moon who’s away,
Struggling to exist,
To see him one more time.

Breathing her last,
She said to none but herself,
‘Stars kept shining,
Far away in the unknown.
But you kept beaming,
Stayed and kept living.’
She died a rose,
A white, beautiful, drained Rose.

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