Look into the meadow
Where the grass grows green
And the daisies illuminate
The sun bathed fields
Their petals
Swaying in the breeze
As soft
And as many
As the clouds themselves
Look into the meadow
This time
To the right
Where a tall flower blooms
Dancing in the wind
A ballerina
In a stream of Violet butterflies
"Why?"
She asks
"Do i still rest in this meadow?"
"While those that surround me
Before me are chosen"
Perhaps she shall never know
I wonder
However
It is for the best
After all
All the flowers shall wilt but she
She shall never know
Of such tragedy
