A heart is like a dandelion.
Chaste, fragile and pure
Growing in turmoil
Blooming with desire and staying put
For longings obscure
But when the agony pours in too deep
And rushing winds become harder to withstand
It decides to abandon the storm
For seeking silence in the midst of the roar.
Little pieces, gentle soul
It flows away.
The storm turns into a gentle breeze
And it lands in another valley
With a hope to taste
Another barren love