Towering cotton white orchids.
Splattered with a purple hue,
like fresh pooled blood stains.  
If death had occured,
the orchids are oblivious
and unapologetically vain.  
Bizarre and exotic.  
Petals plush and ******.  
The orchid's eye bores into me and see,
me writhing in the broken chrysalis  
of my massacred dreams.  
The orchids know that all
is not what it seems......
Even in the most dire of times
the cost of hope is free......
They whisper, emerge...
and tower tall and unique,
like the beauty of me......