West was a flower
Life growing from the feet and the hands
Reaching up into space in favor of god
In bloom
That the king may answer us when we call
A flower
Vines and roots
And sweetest nectar
With petals of radiancy and perspective
Of many thousand years
Colors and perspectives
But I don’t die when I’m supposed to
Only when I’m meant to
And the years of blood are not an issue
Surgery and scar tissue
Still blissful
Because the flower was plucked and left for dead
But at the stalk near the root
There is new life
And it will grow in the light in the favor of the lord
And it will grow