Toward Scent fold’s vale they cleaved the green,
Where wind runs thick with things unseen.
“Is it justice you seek or just her place?”
Lotus said, his voice low, draped in grace.
The blossoms paused, their vows unsealed,
Each plucked petal quaking in truth revealed.
For in his oblique gaze, the mirror lay.
Become the wound or forge the way.

The wound was raw and the way unknown
And from that break, a voice was thrown
"Let's all go to Netherbloom and trace,
a flare to rise and claim our place".

Azure was still, but knew the storm would rise.
So, he nurtured the mosses and lichens wise.

Netherbloom was far and path was fire
still, they trudged through thorn and mire.
They reached the brink where wild roots twine,
A voice uncoiled from the Caelith's shine
“You crossed the flame; you bore the haunt
Now speak your vow, what is it you want?"

“We want equality,” they said, “in beauty.”
"Not bowed by rank but crowned in mutiny.”
said Lily with her grief filled voice.
“Let beauty be truth, not any mortal's choice.”
spoke waning Tulip, holding her poise.