Assuming its appreciated
I suffocate my intuitions,
And collect them all inside me.
All my thoughts, my little dolls,
I line in rows, and brush their hair.
And although love has proved unfair-
Purposefully, I continue.

I do believe it's worth the war.
Tumbling down my house of cards.
Allow him to forever triumph,
Because others come before me.
I could be flying upwards,
But instead, I sit back down.
For I'd rather never push away the wind.

Outside voices unearth crooked tones
They tell me: Foolish flower, trampled all over.
But I do believe it's worth the war.
Foolish flower, I may or may not be.