The storm is whom she loves—

From its loud growls to its dark winds.

The hurricane is whom she loves—

Broken, shattered, and left behind.

The storm drifted her away,

And the hurricane broke her apart.

To whom will she come back to,

She does not know.

She loved the storm,

And she loved the hurricane.

All those two,

At the same time.

The story goes on—

Her petals started losing its colors,

And she was no longer fond of the wind.

For this, is the story,

of the fallen flower.