🌹 043. The Flower That Blooms in the City of Iron

🌷 Where iron stands still, a flower dares to grow.

A quiet bloom in a marketplace of iron.

In a marketplace of steel towers and endless shop windows,
where every word has a price
and every story is measured in coins,
a tiny seed breaks through.

It asks no permission.
It does not bargain for its scent.
It simply blooms,
and in its heartbeat it carries names,
memories, and flashes of worlds
that cannot be bought.

Amid barcodes and cold numbers,
its stem grows,
its petals burn in silence.
And though the gatekeepers may not know it,
that flower has already changed the air.