The grass is swaying in the breeze,
The wind is commanding the earth,
The sun will cry,
But the clouds will hide its tears.
The earth is soft with crimson,
Crimson from my veins.
The moon will shine unto the muck,
And show the meadow what it does not know.
The fingers that touch that one jewel,
Will see the flash of pain.
The pain that has been hidden,
In these bloody flowers again.
- TheGirlBlue.
