Storm after storm,
her petals grew in oversaturation.
Scarlet pink hues turned gray
saddening the beauty of coloration.
Puddles of murky water
evaporated in the grains of the soil.
Gray, trampled sepals blossomed
pastel peaks of pollinated oil.
Sunshine sucked up the moisture
and the flower shined rosy once again.
Days and days, wither after wither,
she would now pray for a drink of rain.
Burning, dry atmosphere
crinkled the creeks of her berry buds.
Vibrant green stems assembled
to a moss green, thirsty shrubs.
Every season she had to face,
her life taken out of her to survive.
Every color and breath in dry dirt or rain,
she had the faith she would be alive.