Morning glory blooms up and bright at dawn,
First rays of the sun she seeks and wakes,
Reaching up into the sky she grows eager,
Creeping up with tender tendril might,
Delicate are her blooms colorful bright,
Eager to please the God, her Sun,
Her buds pine for sunbeam kisses to bloom,
Bright and delicate she shivers in the warmth,
Brief is her life only till noon, Alas!
Sunbeam harsh and cruel, she withers and dies,
Bitter she becomes, filled with angst,
She conspires with mushrooms in the dark,
Laces her seeds with potions and poison.
Pooja Sarmah