Dandelions dancing with the breeze
Mountain Ranges, encased in the warm cardigan of dawn.
Sounds of Solitude travel through the air,
Birds fly across the volcano’s smoky yawns,
Little creatures emerge out of their shells, adjusting their lairs.
The ambiance was soothing, a complete contrast from late night,
For even the most stable of trees had a torturing fight.
For this kingdom once was burnt,
Never lend in your trust so easily; was the lesson that was learnt.
Yet those blazes left wounds not scars,
For scars heal, but wounds are left widely ajar,
The storm of depression and loathing often gets summoned,
So the Kingdom has to fight such battles it never wanted.
Yet, after all that treachery, agony and loss,
The Kingdom strives on strong but the wounds are never lost,
The same force that brought up so much disease,
The Dandelions are now dancing with the breeze.
—kavi
