Unkempt Flowers

Where have all the flowers gone,

that rebelliously raised their heads,

beneath the ashen sky.

Albeit the sky held no promises,

of rain besides that of fire

and days save those of murk.

 

Where have all the flowers gone,

whose only crime, an attempt to breathe

and spread their petals in the free air.

Albeit the air was full of smog,

from the shower of hurtling missiles

and the raining deathly pellets.

 

Where have all the flowers gone,

whose only wish a chance at life

and a chance to bloom and dance.

Albeit the life cheated them,

of the right to deep sleep of dreams

and days of blissful calm.

 

Where have all the flowers gone,

who were made to witness the worst of you,

the worst of me and humanity.

We in denial, the cowardly spectators,

lulled by the phoney perception,

that our flowers, our gardens are safe?

©2014. Habiba Danyal

 

 “The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis.”
― Dan Brown, Inferno

For Yeah Write Weekly Challenge#170, Summer Series.