Work Text:
Flowers sway to the will of the winds sweeping
'cross a lovely little field;
Until it is also the harbinger of a storm,
To which the flowers cry,
"Oh, our very dear wind, you played us yesterday, by the act of mimicking an uproot;
Our roots have now faltered, misplaced from mother Earth's love, do not play with us again,
We will uproot then."
To this, the wind seems silent.
Many are uprooted by big brother Storm
It is not wind, it is not a harbinger of rife
It cries so savagely, loud and louder
To make the flowers hear
"My very dear flowers! I am not here."
Pitifully, the flowers are deaf and now dead
"You couldn't be persuaded. Couldn't you hear, the heartbeats that frequented less every hit?"
The next hours, mother Sun rose again
"My very dear friends, why won't you wake up again?"
Wind poked at the flowers, unloved by mother Earth.
Wind took a tour, then came time and time again
"My very dear friends, why won't you wake up?"
Wind poked again.
"My very dear friends, you have disappeared, to where?"
The wind was damp with sad.
But if it would become more damp, it'll be just like big brother Storm.
It swept across land and sea, sea and land again;
It grew heatful, loatheful, for it was fated with anguish and only anguish
It was alone and lonely, it swept across lands and seas across, and only friend was the memory;
It grew older, more angry; its memory grew failing and fading, traces disappeared.
"My very dear friends. They are dead. No friend will befriend me now," spoke the wind of its misery.
Abhorrence and the ugliness of the World grew with acceleration.
"So much sadness, so much hatred, so much torture, it plagues mother Land and mother Sea both."
A day came,
It flew over a very hot sea, and to the land.
It swept 'cross a very little field, entangled all over with very very little, colourful flowers
Wind was very, very anguished and weary at the end, it was livid and saw only vivid
It caressed the flowers, forward and in its stream, the little flowers uprooted, root by root, in the wrath of the brute alone.
The little flowers were frail and frailer, than any flower of alike;
Because they sowed into a field, the little of it that was left once after a big bad, storm
Into the tilled soil and the flowers withering into it
Rooting deep, but weakly.
Still, bright did they bloom in the tiny little soily cleft
Until they were ravaged upon that day,
Had they sown not into the graves of others, perhaps they may hadn't deserved this fate.
The next hours, mother Sun rose
Wind overlooked the little field from above
"So little was left, I had grown so complacent, I had forgotten the past"
It couldn't have faith, in it had woke such savageness?
"My very dear children! It wasn't Wind!"
It still cried loud and louder,
"It wasn't here!"
The little flowers beared fordone,
Wind forgiven or not,
it wouldn't matter any more
The next hours, mother Sun fell asleep
"My very dear flowers," spoke the Wind, but to no avail
Words had been lost, words were silent to those devoided of all sense.
Words could be spoke, by anyone
But could actions be done without, by whose not there?
"Wind, you must hurry away, pave path, I must ravage upon this blasphemous Land, it grants us no joy and no ease,"
"Wind, you are alike me, you will one day also be a Storm,"
"It is the greatest form."
"It'll never be so."
Had said Wind once, now it walks upon a scape, where Sun sets
It brushes against the tendrils of the little flowers
So fragile that petals blow away at the gentlest weep
So fragile that they swiftly lost,
thoroughly lost, parted sway from love.
Towards the great star, it searched expectantly
"..."
A destiny that would end its misery
To dissipate with, Wind came down once again,
As rain
To dissipate with the memories of pain, and;
To dissipate with the deaths in vain
It poured down, to Earth and all across the Land.
The field was wet, soil fertile;
Yet there was no flower nor wind,
To bring it to life.
The little flowers beared fordone, no flowers were left here
lest Wind be forgiven, as wind or storm or as rain
It wouldn't matter any more, only Wind was left there.