From the seed coat, came out a flower.
First in the valley, was the flower.
Adorned by all, was the flower
One of a kind was the flower.
...
In the vast pool of darkness,
I stand strong,
There are many
but I stand alone.
...
Echoes spread when it fell.
I was the one who picked it up
Pieces by pieces
My hands painted red
...
Just an inspiring poet.)
Flower
From the seed coat, came out a flower.
First in the valley, was the flower.
Adorned by all, was the flower
One of a kind was the flower.
Through the emerald green,
Through the rough wind,
Through the champagne weather,
Persevered at last was the flower.
Without the shimmering golden complexion
Without the tears of the brume
Without the prolificacy of loam
Dwindling away was the flower.
Shall it ever blossom again?
Shall it ever revive?
Shall it ever blithe?
Mewling in perplexed was the flower.
The shadow lingering around
Frail under the soil
Scared stiff of perishing
The apple of the valley, was the flower.