Daffodil

My heart, a daffodil that you pluck and try to hold

In your soft palms, it rips apart, and it rips apart.

Its petals fall like whispered secrets, torn and frail,

scattered on the breeze, a fleeting, fragile art.

You chase the pieces, fingers trembling, eyes alight.

but they slip through, soft as sorrow, sharp as pain.

Each fragment hums with dreams that fade into the night.

a golden ache that blooms, then wilts in gentle rain.

Yet still you kneel, gathering shards of yellow flame,

as if your touch could mend what broke beneath your care.

My heart, once whole, now dances free from love’s sweet claim.

a daffodil unbound, too wild for hands to bear.

The meadow watches, silent, under twilight’s glow.

In this place, we once laughed and wove our tender vows.

Its grasses sway, a cradle for the heart’s soft woe,

Their whispers weave truths that time no longer allows.

You speak my name, a murmur lost in evening’s hush,

Each syllable is a thread that pulls the wound apart.

The daffodil, though broken, feels your fleeting brush.

Its roots are still clinging deep within the earth’s old heart.

And yet, I bloom where shadows pool, in quiet grace.

My petals strewn across the fields you’ll never roam.

Each tear-soaked shard reflects your face, your lost embrace,

a fleeting spring that lingers in my soul’s soft loam.

The stars above, indifferent, trace their ancient arc.

Their silver light is a balm for wounds too deep to heal.

My heart, a daffodil, still glows within the dark.

It's a golden pulse, a truth no hand can ever steal.

Through seasons’ turn, I wander paths of dew and dust,

where memories of you still linger like a song.

Each note, a fallen petal, carried by the gust,

a fragile hymn of love that carries me along.

The dawn may break, but it never mends what night has torn.

Its rosy fingers are blind to scars beneath my bloom.

Yet still I rise, a daffodil, though bruised and worn,

to greet the sun with courage in the morning’s womb.

No longer yours, I find my roots in wilder ground.

where winds sing low and free, unburdened by your weight.

My heart, though shattered, grows where freedom’s voice is found.

Its petals are fierce, defying love’s unyielding fate.

So let me drift, a daffodil on winds unseen,

no longer yours to hold, no longer yours to break.

My heart, though torn, will find its light in fields serene.

and bloom again where love and loss are no more awake.

In distant glades, where rivers carve their quiet way,

I’ll weave my colours through the earth, a silent vow.

No hand can claim the daffodil that learns to stray.

Its golden heart is forever free, unshackled now.

And then—a blaze! My petals burst in fiery bloom.

a supernova heart, no longer soft and small.

I am the storm, the sun, and the star that seals your doom.

A daffodil reborn, to burn and blind you all.