There was a time that I stood proudly.
My petals bright and vibrant,
My stem and leaves stalwart against the wind,
My roots strong, anchoring me to the rich soil beneath.
There was a time that I stood proudly.
Tall amongst my peers as we basked in the Sun’s glory,
Drinking deep from the steady rains that fell.
There was a time that I stood proudly.
A prize for the Gardener’s gentle touch, guiding our growth.
But now I stand lost and afraid.
For my petals are fading.
My leaves are withering, my stem buckling under its own weight.
My roots weakened and loose, clinging, grasping a void below.
I am alone now; my peers are merely shadows under this unforgiving heat.
Dryness has left me with no tears to shed for them.
I am still standing but I feel the Winnower’s gaze.