He planted a seed of happiness until it turned into a seedling of satisfaction,
It grown a lot─ measuring its height as
it built enough confidence,
Day by day with Planter's grace, soft branches sang in locution,
Through the beam of light He made, it bloomed with flowers; a great suspense.
Day by day, flowers started to cleave; He had given her people's attention,
Through fruits she yield, everything meant some essence,
That day then tragedy came; against her premeditation,
She who had forget Him, been thrown in the kindling incense.
For she's supposed to be a useful branch in His creation,
Yet blinded by worldly stuffs choking her soul— dark prevalence,
For she's supposed to be a fruitful one; to not gain conviction,
God's the Tree of love, wisdom and salvation; the only Providence.
