A powerful wind blows
Throughout the fields.
Flowers shiver down bellow
As if their roots are fins.
In the sea
Of the flowery field,
I bend and pick me
A little flower seed.
It will reach its peak in a vase, I know,
For I will save it this day once more,
Though in the end nothing will be left to show.
Brighter than before, it stands proudly to mourn.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 5:28 AM UTC
A powerful wind blows
Throughout the fields.
Flowers shiver down bellow
As if their roots are fins.
In the sea
Of the flowery field,
I bend and pick me
A little flower seed.
It will reach its peak in a vase, I know,
For I will save it this day once more,
Though in the end nothing will be left to show.
Brighter than before, it stands proudly to mourn.
