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.