The Titan's Flower

By:

Spring is here and winter's gone,
Joy to us, when weeping's done.

A titan's fist comes from the ground,
To be what will build the way.
The crimson sky and azure land,
Shine upon this golden hand,
Which will guide us well.
A flower.

So brave, so strong, so fertile,
They come around to see it spark,
Like nothing they have seen before,
But it's a lie.

The autumn rain is turning,
It has not yet come, but it drives.
It turns it weak and they around do flee.

And then when the axe turns dead,
When the blade with rust has fed,
You will see the true power
That lies within the hilt.

In the winter that now comes,
The flower sheds tears and turns to wreath.
And in the silence in which eyes die,
Skin bleeds and hearts cry,
No face, no mind, no soul is left,
Nothing but your beautiful self.
The self you hid for long a time.

And in this time if you should see,
She who comes and sings to you,
Dances, laughs and mourns the bloom,
You will know that she's the one,
She whom you are meant to choose.

A heart that flies on broken wing,
You see, you feel, a united deed,
A sun that scorches long-dead minds,
But one that warms the silver kinds.

She is the one you can't replace.
No laugh, no cry, set in her place,
No smile, no tear, no golden lace,
No silver ray, no fiery trace,
No love on earth could be her grace,
Nothing you can imagine.

She is here for you, for them and for me,
Then, and now, and in what will come to be.