Queen of the Night
She waits where daylight cannot reach, Unseen by the hurried world, Gathering strength in the quiet. All day she endures — Heat, neglect, Passing glances that never linger. She does not protest. She prepares. Beneath stillness, She is rebuilding. When night finally arrives, She opens — Not fragile, But fearless. Her petals carry the memory Of every harsh hour she survived. Her fragrance travels through darkness Like proof — That softness can outlive the storm. By morning, she folds again, Not defeated, Not diminished — Only wiser. For she knows Resilience does not demand attention. It blooms anyway.