Flowers

Flowers are a 

Vague strand 

Of hope, 

When everything

Around has 

Surrendered to

The onslaught

Of dark.

The pale yellow

Of marigold might 

Not shine enough,

To break the

Tethers of night.

The bright red

Of roses might

Sulk in a corner

After failing to

Summon ample

Amount of fire.

As, sometimes

Surviving the

Storm is important,

Than making a 

Point.

The lilies and

The daisies, 

As they wait,

Not yielding to

The subjugation

Of demons..

They become 

Windows to the

Derailed rays of

Light.

The flowers 

In the night are

The first songs

Of an arriving

Dawn.