That little bud, which was blossoming into a beautiful flower;
never knew the harsh atmosphere.
it's the conversion that made it abhor the process;
where it lost it's containment and placidness.
turn by turn ,used for it's beauty;
now it is loathing on it's purity.
those petals which were soft and prosperous;
shedding it's petals one after another to be stuporous.
©SANGEETA M
S