The Bruised Blooms
Beauty, a siren song upon the breeze,
Whispers to hearts where kindred spirits sigh.
Souls, crowned with thorns, yet yearning to appease
The world's harsh symphony, with each fractured cry.
A broken bloom, though marred by winter's sting,
Still holds a fragrance, a sweet offering.
Courage, a fearless knight, forever bold,
Leads them beyond the veil where shadows creep.
They scale the cliffs of dreams, their stories told
In every failure, lessons they will keep.
Unafraid of falling, for the tumbled stone
Polishes their spirit, and makes their purpose known.
Truth, a double-edged sword, with piercing gaze,
Leaves scars etched deep within their tender souls.
The world's dissonance, a mournful, haunting maze,
Reflected in the mirror that truth unfolds.
Compassion, a heavy cloak they wear with grace,
Yearning for honesty in every face.
Sacrifice, a crimson thread, with love entwined,
Woven through hearts where selfless passions burn.
They build a bridge for others, leaving them behind,
Standing firm upon the shore, as dangers churn.
With open palms, they mend the world's torn seams,
A silent hunger veiled in selfless dreams.
Wounded warriors, etched with battle marks,
Their scars, a story whispered on the breeze.
Misunderstood, rejected by the dark,
Their light is a challenge to the shadows' freeze.
Yet Paradox, with wings of wisdom spread,
Reveals that strength in vulnerability is bred.
O world, behold these souls, where scars now gleam,
A testament to battles fought in love's embrace.
Shattered dreams, like seeds in darkness dream,
And from their wounded beauty, hope finds space.
Though thorns they wear, their light shall never cease,
A beacon in the dark, a promise of sweet peace.
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