Eloquent, being lost
On lanes familiar with the dust.
I can not spot
The flower shops i fostered in the past.

Except the rooms of stained glass
I narrow eyes to see
How time will doom the camomile
How ruthless life can be.

But I will kneel
Reciprocate the corpse of once a growing stalk.
For it's the only way.
For we must talk
Before it's time to leave.