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 donβt die when Iβm supposed to Only when Iβm 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