The Foul Bud

In the garden of time, there blossoms a flower which is draped like a bride all in white. Amidst the prismatic shimmer of the field, this flower is the unchaste Dianna. Deceiving the rationale of moral beliefs, it betrays the human that gives it a glance. It spreads its tender arms and wraps around the neck like a serpent coiled over its prey, Lovers get lured by its charm as it pools them inside its cup. And then floral beauty is nowhere to be found, Perfidy takes control. Day gets converted into dark, All pay the toll. Wrath and Animosity become guests alike, Remorse drives its chariot drifting the Juno swans aside. Apologies are less accepted, And forgetting one another becomes the only way. The foul play then comes to rest As they have the beloved to detest. You are warned not to stare at it It's the flower, the flower of Infidelity.