Little Dark Age
She has flourished into a flower that has bled,
Far along from a sprout who desired protection from the soil bed
Petals soft and bright deceives the eye,
Ahead a winter that shall let it die
Long and frigid, suffocating warmth of the nurturer —
Became the saddened time and loss of his little girl
A youth decaying, making way for the adolescence,
The rigid years of painful processes
He yearns to cradle her a last time.
She yearns for comforting care,
To comb through the knots in her golden hair
A lively childhood fading, the sparkle left behind —
Became her little dark age and purpose she must find
Reclusive and damaging, closing off a child’s love —
Ahead a guilt that shall halt the flight of a dove
Feathers wilted and thin breaks the strength,
Far along the ability to atone and bring back a love’s length
She has flourished into a flower that has bled.
Copyright © Isabelle Fardin | Year Posted 2023
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