Friday, 30 October 2015

The Orchid Flower

What does it smell like
To die during the day
Would it reek as much
As night falls to the ground
On the absence of light
No one fears death
More than the florist
No one looks older waiting for death

A vase of white orchids
Carefully placed on the counter
But without any fragrance
Just a display of exotic elegance 
But hardly enough
For the cashier pocket

Strangled midair
Necks falling off green stems
Stiff and stubborn
Dying to dance
On their own accord
Unwind the leash 
Only a kid
Can pick
A fight with nature