My Sweet Little Bud
The one I planted, nurtured, watered with my own blood—
You bloomed the prettiest flower, where butterflies always hover.
Nectar brimmed with love, unbound blessings of a mother,
Standing alone, spreading its euphoric vigor.
You could never be weak.
You didn't bloom to be suppressed;
It might be hot or freezing cold.
Never stop climbing,
destiny awaits at the peak.
Be light piercing dark, sun thawing cold.
My warmth is trapped in you,
Stay fearlessly bold.
Rise against hands stained red.
Never get imprinted by their cruel marks.
For you are the provider, the nurturer herself—
Never be afraid; always be yourself.
You're the beginning,
You're the untimely end.
The flower they could never break,
Even the storm couldn't bend.
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