Withered or yet to bloom,
At midway its all so gloom..
Striving to blossom,
Wherever she is planted,
Life seems a futile ground..

With all efforts meeting the doom,
Destiny is apparently looking away…
With the heart knowing only how to love,
Hatred and betrayal are tough to absorb…

Yet she strives,
One more time always,
To bloom, rise and shine,
Like a shinning happy flower,
Even amid the thorns of life…