Let the curtains pull off and the melancholy be unfold,
Once upon a time, amidst the woeful thorns,
There bloomed a rose, for her charisma known.
Fragile to touch. Glorious to be grown.
Anon she perceived the envy weeds hide.
"Glamorous World is gruesome inside".
Gleam and glittered; fall apart in dark infinite nights
For only she endured the battle to smoulder in scorching sunlight.
Secrets of strength enfolded within her petals,
Misconstrue it as her beauty, be loved for essence.
She burnt slowly; all colors faded, for no one could dare
To hold the fire beneath, yet sparkle for ages,
How tragic it is, Oh poor ! No one admires a withered dead rose.
And when the curtains fall, there was no applause.