A house stood on a hill,
Beckoning the dawn to
Come,
Dawn doth shall come,
Else it be that
Forever more it is black.
Good morn was said to the world,
Here in the house on the hill,
It said a many greetings,
Just in time for dawn.
Kangaroos jump about,
Laughing at the house,
Meanwhile,
Nests of birds
Overflow the world,
Populating the world
Quickly.
Ravished are the treetops,
Salt fills the sea,
Trucks fill the highways,
And love fills you and me.
She was my
And I was her
Friend.
But then,
Something
Split us apart.
She moved,
I moved on,
And I never heard from her again.
To think,
That we were once so close,
And now so far.
That's what happens
When you lose
A friend.
In it's den,
Made of rock,
It sleeps soundly.
The dragon sleeps,
Steam seeping from it's nose,
Dreaming a pleasant dream.
It awakens,
It's tail swishing,
To find the sun has appeared.
Conquering the darkness,
It lights a fire,
To start off the new day.
The burden was
To big to bear
As it fell
Upon
My shoulders.
I embraced it
With open arms
But it only
Took me down.
Why, oh why,
After I treated it so,
Did it hurt me so badly?
The calamity strikes
At midnight
When the darkness comes out
To play.
No one is safe
From the calamity's wrath
As it comes before
The day.
Night is a fearless entity
Full of dreams and power,
Opportunities and hopes
For the future.
What can one do,
Sleeping in their bed,
When calamity strikes
At night?
Sing a
Protection spell?
No, that won't work.
It is my prophecy,
That,
At sunrise,
The calamity will go
To bed.
A flower's will is strong,
Blowing away my own,
Catching the wind it flies,
Daring the world to catch it.
Enemies beware this flower's wrath,
For it is delicate like a bird.
Good is it gone, or bad?
How can we tell?
It is hard to decide,
Judging by how all life is important.
Kangaroos,
Lions,
Mice too.
No one is left behind.
Opportunities are for all.
Please let the flower fly and be free,
Queer as it may seem,
Ready it is,
Striking as it may seem,
Today is the day.
Until now,
Very rare was the idea.
Watching if fly by,
Extraordinary it is,
Yet something is missing,
And only I know what it is.
It stood tall,
Even
In the wet rain.
It smiled,
Waiting for the sun.
That flower,
That happy flower,
Waited patiently,
For something that never came.
Why, oh why,
Was it always so happy?
Why was it's joy in vain?
The sun,
It never came.
It never came,
To greet the one
Waiting for it
And now, because of that,
The poor flower
Has died, still smiling.
Smiling, forever more.
