Atrocity

A flower in the lawn,
Smiling in a quiet yard,
Dipped in love—soft and pure.

A kite in the sky,
Aspiring like a river, breaking rocks,
Making the gardener proud.

But oh, what a destiny!
Uprooted, the gentle one
Was planted in another’s pot,
Hoping for the shower of love.

Instead, surrounded by a fiery storm,
Burned inside out,
Without mercy—
For a handful of coins.

Is this happenstance,
Or someone’s selfish desire?

— Ray Moonee