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My Diospyros Lotus
Round, lilliputian Diospyros Lotus, bell-shaped
Veiled in scales, a feeble shield
Yearns for its gardeners’ tender care
Nurture it, to grow, fully fledged
The not so divine fruit clings to life’s agony
Roots entrenched in the soil of chaos
Its fragile stem, xylem strained
Carries arid minerals to the leaf bud
I weep for its struggle to survive
Hoping my pearls might help it thrive
Yet all it does is worsen its plight
As it gazes at me with pity
Perhaps I've stifled it, smothered its breath
Deprived of oxygen, it stands alone
Its fruit, like a distant dream, so far away
Leaves droop low, a mournful view
I kept ignoring its pleas, while it
Rots with every smoke that assails
Throbs with every hand that plucks
Quivers with every touch that inches
My conscience’s seed, witnesses it all
A silent judge, withering slowly
As I pretend to tend for a plant in a storm
Waiting for raindrops to cleanse the dry petals
Open its scales, let new leaves unfurl
Unfold and grow, strong and full
Blooming beautifully, a fruitful sight
Its scars, pure and flawed, enduring monsoons
Veiled in scales, a feeble shield
Yearns for its gardeners’ tender care
Nurture it, to grow, fully fledged
The not so divine fruit clings to life’s agony
Roots entrenched in the soil of chaos
Its fragile stem, xylem strained
Carries arid minerals to the leaf bud
I weep for its struggle to survive
Hoping my pearls might help it thrive
Yet all it does is worsen its plight
As it gazes at me with pity
Perhaps I've stifled it, smothered its breath
Deprived of oxygen, it stands alone
Its fruit, like a distant dream, so far away
Leaves droop low, a mournful view
I kept ignoring its pleas, while it
Rots with every smoke that assails
Throbs with every hand that plucks
Quivers with every touch that inches
My conscience’s seed, witnesses it all
A silent judge, withering slowly
As I pretend to tend for a plant in a storm
Waiting for raindrops to cleanse the dry petals
Open its scales, let new leaves unfurl
Unfold and grow, strong and full
Blooming beautifully, a fruitful sight
Its scars, pure and flawed, enduring monsoons
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