'Fall'

It was her first bloom
And it was her first fall.
Stucked for a long time in a room,
Wandering what beauty's outhere.
Just writing lines on her wall,
When time made a dictum,
And she received a call.

The calling of love,
But the answer is falling hard,
She forgets that every flower that blooms
The petals, one day will torn.
It will dye into color of forlorn.
If no one picked her heirloom,
Death is the blossom.

She now stayed in a solitary soil,
Only the memories who saunters
Because her vigor weakens.
Turns an intangible dust and debris,
That no one notice her weeping
A girl that fell, break and dying.
Afraid that the agony will turn to turmoil.

Yearning for repair of her broken zeal,
Ardent for a cure after a sudden fall,
Waiting for a hand to warmth her soul.
Longing to fix her fragmented heart.
If she was born to break after the fall
She will heal and wait for her another bloom.

@Trion2020