Baskadia

The white petal soul, is now blushing, as flower,

In the blossom, of wonders, just reigning a peaceful power,

To win over, the million waiting, billion times, over and over,

While hating a lover, who debated, as a believer,

To stand beside you, while landing stands aside you,

From the parks, fountain, and the rains, that decide you,

And your mood, which bloom, to be good,

Raising from the grave, of rude, to shaving with crude,

The intruder self, which been, on racks, from when, you stood,

Finding the diary, where you wrote, the stack,

Of memories, sadly happy, back to back,

While being happily sad, and reminding, to be glad,

To those beloved ones, who made your times mad,

Let it be mom, sis, bro, or dad,

You were a rhyme, of them, like a verse, for lad,

As a universe, reversing the curse, of bad,

Sessions, that marks the precision, of tears, you had,

In years, yet you didn’t drank, that beers,

But you shrank, all your fears, from the blank slate, of cheers,

To restart, a destiny, with a head start,

Being satisfied, with locals, than the craze, of mart,

Signified with the vocals, for finding smily phases, in every heart,

Life’s like a blushing rose, where petals, will surely close, the thorny part,