Flower

The flower will bloom,
Despite knowing that soon,
It's fragile life will end,
By a human hand.

Song of Blades

Under the crimson sky of mournful dusk,
The song of blades,
Persisted in its deadly rhythm.
And night would be the only thing to last,
For those of us,
Whose blades failed to listen.

Number One

She sings a lullaby to him,
Though he's in pain and cannot win.
He lies in bed, waiting for death,
The only thing left, is to rest.
But she will wait until it's done,
Singing to her number one.