Snow Falls On My Nihal Poem by The Burden Bearer Of The Worlds

April 11,2025, Friday

The calendar halts, the hours stand as vows.
I waited for that day,
For the moment my breath might fail—
For I thought the Hibiscus would bloom at last.

Yet the Hibiscus was but a pretense,
The true bloom lay in the fresh hopes of my soul.
Every sprout that grew with your name, my Nihal,
Waited quietly for a "perhaps, "
A whisper of reunion.

Just as the promise, the vow to bloom,
Sprouted in the palm of my hand, fleeting beyond this world…
The most tender, the freshest, the dearest Nihal,
Seemed not for the first time—her shadow fell silent again.

I mistook it for a miracle,
Believing the harsh winter had ended,
As the mercy of the sky turned all to green…
Yet again, that merciless white silence!
Snow fell upon my life once more,
Without you, without reason.

Tell me now, what does this white veil herald?
A belated farewell, or another postponement?
This soul, beneath the Hibiscus,
A sapling frozen in ice and snow.
When will this earth smile?
When will you bloom, Nihal?