A remembered bliss,
unknown within it's cycle,
Could be recognized
In desperate times

This time involves
feeling
In contrast with the new
Vague death that has faded

A smaller clue to it's fame
and unwanted fortune
Of praise and sarcasm
That its leaves will never understand.

This flower
Rooted through the past
and what becomes the future
Becomes existent
As the moon awakens,
That of which is praised too.

All of these natural states
worshiped in vain
To make nature's meanings,
As well as their own,
Unique.
 
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