By Zeean Firmeza
His heart was full of blossoms:
Trickling down the riverbed and swaying with the wind.
The ceaseless vibrancy of sun-scented hair—
For truly, the gods gifted the world a hidden gem.
In a forest of fire, uncertainty looms over—a shadow seizing the day.
Anytime, any day, he strikes down the clock and tells me,
“All things come to an end.”
Yet, little does he know,
That his heart is full of blossoms,
And his voice pierces through the uncertainty of time,
Taming a restless, trembling heart and soul.
His words are the petals from his blossoms.
With a woven basket, many collect those words:
And press it right near their bosoms dearly.
—For certain, his heart was full of blossoms.
For Nick, a kind friend.
Source:
Cover image from NBC San Diego
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