Tears, like rain circumspect, betray the malady within. Sunlight is shrugged off, muting the pink of lilacs and the blues of jacarandas; poinsettias turn pale, and the yellows of daffodils fade into a pallid shade in our forsaken garden.
All flowers, it seems, are desiccated. Darkness lingers — unyielding.
Will Light ever reappear?