My heart speaks loud, yet my mind stays shut, My eyes see joy—and the bleeding cut. The world stands firm in its rigid belief, One born to silence, one lost in grief. Beauty's now a myth in this chaotic land, Each sorrow takes root in barren sand. Thorns rise tall while flowers seem smooth, The path is lost—hope burns at the root. Pain and loneliness grip my beloved earth, Once clear as the sky, now buried in dirt. The sun hides its rays beneath darkened skies, Happy is the cold world, dark is my rose. #flowr