The orchid, glazed with morning dew,
has no pretence and seeks no audience,
her desire is to reach only for the sun,
in true beauty, she climbs, uninhibited.

seek, always, to live unencumbered,
give yourself freely, without restraint,
they who wear the veil of persistent memory
are confined, forever entombed,

wrapped in the eternal shroud of solitude
behind granite walls built from hurt,
the boundaries of their incarceration
insurmountable, by even the purest heart.