He asked me if I was hurting
But I told him that I was not
He then asked why am I crying
And I couldn't voice out a response
I was stumped for a while
"Why are you crying?"
The question echoed in my mind
Why am I crying?
Am I still hurting?
But no, I don't feel anything
And so, why are these tears falling?
Then I realised.

Perhaps our eyes need to be cleansed by tears
To wash away the memories of yesteryears.

Sometimes
The panic
Is more dangerous
Than the pandemic

Mother hen-
Lead the way
Tell me when-
And where to stay.

I need a guide-
Through my life
A place to hide-
No more strife

Mother hen-
I'm sorry I lied
Fault of men-
I just can't cry.

I always thought we were the perfect match.
But matches are meant
                                   to ignite
                                         and burn out.

The beasts haunted her endlessly
And was driven to the brink of insanity
All she wanted was to be free
Thus, she succumbed to the tragedy.
Dead was her body
But alive were her memories
On the rocky soil and barren land,
Her tameless spirit couldn't rest.
Perhaps, she found her home
In this rugged, desolate place
There bloomed a tiny blossom
Dancing with a gentle grace.
She had became a little wildflower
Free from the constraints of society,
Breathing the woody breeze of summer
And finally felt the gratifying tranquillity.