Blame got his hands *****
...yet still clung to the flower

The single flower gave him hope and light
...she loved the smell of the earth

Forgetting all that transpired
...Blame crushed the flower in his hand

Blame was washed clean
...yet his hands are still imprinted with shadows of

The flower was crushed
...in decay she still loves him

He never once crushed her soul~


~It was your choice to leave...so why do you still follow me? To hurt me more?