She feared the thorns in the garden,
but it were the flowers that pricked.
Shedding the blood through her eyelashes.
Sweet or bitter she was forced to gulp, dare not to complain, dare not to mourn.
They thought it was the end of her misery.
Sadly it was not.
It was the beginning of her untold story to be hidden within the colourful petals.
She was to be sucked by the butterflies, because she was a flower.
A flower dare not to complain, dare not mourn.