As beautiful as a flower, as gentle as thee.
A sweet aroma coming from it.
As it innocently spring up the field.
Thy seed, turning into a sweet little flower.
That grows every single day.
Seasons step to thee, but when you look at it.
It is nothing but a matured flower now.
Blooming over the field.
Showing the world it's beauty.
But as the years passed by.
Each petals had come to it's end.
It withers slowly, as the hand of the clock never stop moving.
But when thy time comes to an end.
Never to worry, because there's a new one to bloom.
A new generation.
A new story to be told.
Another life to live.
As the new flower bloom.
It can be more beautiful or not.
But will never be the same.
Because every piece of it has it uniqueness.
Nothing is eternal in this world.
Everything and everyone has it's own ending.
