The flowers fragrance was crushed by the  heavy iron of a man’s error
He hugs their two little buds, distraught to be the bearer
To tell them the story of how Mother Nature will now get to share her.

Her garden, so beautiful and full, slowly weeps a storm so silent and violent it’s unsure if it’s own survival
The forest, the trees, the scrubs, all shake their heads in denial.

His  wings torn almost broken
Forever frozen in the hell of heartbreak

Endless days, endless nights
Where their breathing alone shatters into sharp splinters leaving tears and anger to cure the road to recovery

It is said that time  provide the space for us all to mend our wings, the grace and forgiveness to smile and laugh
To see  joy in her  smile on their faces, the warmth of their hugs and the kindness we all know was her .

I woke up and I'm feeling low.
Seems like I've lost the glow.
The day is gloomy,
The night is empty.
A familiar feeling,
I guess I need some healing.

Can our consciousnesses be
Fast or slow?
Can our awarenesses be
High or even low?

You do realise
Of course...

Language was simply designed
to hide our feelings
We hide behind our poetic preserves
Whether were loving or were killing
Say what you shall
In the presence of light
Poets stands up with their words to fight

That was just a few rhymes of insight!