ObservationA yellow bloom in fingers frail,
A sigh lost deep in sorrow’s veil.
She hides her heart, yet cannot feign,
The weight of masks, the ghost of pain.
The world around—a fevered dance,
Yet still she lingers, lost in trance.
A hush of grief, a silent plea,
A flower held—what could it be?
A love once bright, now torn, undone,
Or secrets whispered to no one?
The masquerade, a swirling tide,
Yet she alone lets none inside.0.1639%
