Words are like delicate flowers

Blossom like roses

Roses that hide their thorns

Sometimes, they have an intention

Yet, nurtured by indifference

To speak not a word is an option

Yet, in the garden of silence

Words grow like weeds

Bloom in lies in the garden of silence

And so, not to alter the nature of things

As every flower blooms in colours and scents

Every word blooms in sounds, melodies, and harmonies

Words leave a message that lingers through the days

Through the years

Words go ahead of us

They live in the future

And so, we stay behind while they journey

Carried by the wind to never return

And they are so brittle

Words are like a delicate flower

Like a fragile love

We can hurt words, give them another meaning

Words can be strong in the thoughts

Yet they may become fragile on the tongue

Soothing in the mouth of the wise

Disturbing in the mouth of the fool

Words know their master

As flowers know their gardener

And so, in their blooming

Words can adorn a wedding or a funeral

Bring in love

Bring in hate

And as flowers do, words bloom, wither and die

Words bloom when describing an idea

And wither and die, when heartbroken, we cry.