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Withered flowers always have more to tell.
Abruption leaves pale.

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From a bud,
I blossomed as a cherishing flower,
People adore me abundantly,
Pluck me for my fragrance and the vibes,
Hold me as their crown with bunches of love and pride,
Hold me like a baby with heaps of care
But once I began to dry,
Unknowingly, they threw me in the trash,
And made me rotten...

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Though it gets withered now but still I feel fresh smell of Love as did that day when you gifted it with Love
💕💕

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The rose that you gave me long ago
Still pricks me, though it is dead.

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Rose withered in the sun,
its petals scattered in the wind.

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I could not get myselves,
To throw away that withered rose.
Sure, all the petals had been crumbled;
Dried away.
All of its life had been snatched away.
But,
It still reminded me of those times
Those days
When I felt full of life with you.
I could not cast those thoughts away.
I could not throw that red rose away.

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पत्तियाँ जिसकी सूख के गिर भी गई,
मैं उसे अब भी गुलाब कहता हुँ.....

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After few years when you open your
Old Book you will find the
Withered Rose Petals
with lots of Memories...

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ये जो फूल हथेली पे है इसे फूल न जान
मेरा दिल ज़िस्म के बाहर भी तो हो सकता है

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