Red, Yellow, And blue, Make up the colors of me and you.
Black, And white, Are the colors that just might, Bring you fear at night.
So close your eyes, And your petals too, And hope you will still be standing, When the black turns blue.
So as you start, To open your bloom, A hand comes down to collect you.
So now you will never know, The feel of that white light, On the petals of your flower, Because you are stuck in a glass, That becomes your prison βtil death.