Sense the Senses

(And then) the flower of life
Thrives in the soil of strife;
The winds of woes and sorrow
Fan and fire the Frame's sparrow.

Love freelance is the fragrance,
In madness, feel the sapience:
Petalwise -sense all the senses,
Reality consists in pretty pretenses.

Time tames not its essence,
Beyond space too, feel thro' seance;
Even in the gardens of Eden,
Nothing can its vibes quieten.

The flowers thus withers not,
Its perfume pristine dithers not.

- ℳ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃