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Sprung out of the cool dark earth
It stretches towards the soft canopy above.
But hangs, in a lifeless arc,
Casting its peaceful vision to its awkward green feet
Green with envy, petals soft and white--
Too gentle to care, it is closed Modestly over its brilliant burning embers.
A strike of gold from above,
Intense heat and flaming smile
Erupts, and the fan splays open.
Melting in its wrath, the others
Cower, lose shape, turn black with
Anger and ash.
Hardened thorns rise against in
Darkened armies and the flower,
Crucified, falls to the crimson soil.
--j.u.l.i.e.t
