Its skin a map of whispered, hidden tales,
A sphere of promise, filled with red delights,
Each seed a heartbeat, cradled in its flesh.
To slice it open is to know the truth
A rush of sweetness spills like tender dreams,
As crimson juice flows freely, a soft tide,
That mirrors love’s first warmth upon the tongue.
In every seed, the dusk of life unfolds,
A gentle womb of quiet, pulsing hope,
Reflecting strength in all its fragile grace,
A ruby treasure, born of light and dark.
So, Lily, cherish what the heart can hold,
For in this fruit, our sweetest fears reside.