BHOJ RAJ NEUPANE
The flowers
Fear the bumblebees every day
Only to be at their service
At the end of the day.
The flowers deride the storms
Every moment
But dance to their tunes.
The flowers fear the humankind
But deck their necks ultimately.
The flowers know very well
That being beautiful is a curse in disguise
So is being tender
And fragrant too.
The flowers consider it their lot
To wither and fall
To perk up again
And to get defeated
At the hands of a feeble waft of wind
For the flowers know the eternal rule:
There is no blooming again without a fall.
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