The wind that hath blown, so fiercely
Shall never bring petals back
To what now remains of, once
That was a flower
While the rain and the sun
In unison, wash and bleach its colours
And yet, next spring
It will bloom again
And spread its petals in full colour
As though in defiance
Of its adversaries, that ironically
Break it and then make it
But the tempest of my circumstances
More ravaging than the elements
Go on, to shatter the petals
Of my emotions
Where no spring, virile enough
Chances to revive
Or blossom the remnants
Or maybe the flower
More resilient
Than I