The Withering Flower's Cry

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The flower is withering again,
Petals blighting,
Stalk gone dry,
Bees kissing it, dwindlng by the hour.

There's a lot of light,
But it's open sunshine that she requires,
There's watering everyday,
But it's the untrammelled rain that she craves for.

She's a wild flower, in freedom is her life,
And she's being confined to a beautiful death,
She's calling out through her silent cries,
Save her, throw her away into the wild...to her home...to her life.