Lilly petals, blown asunder in the wind,|
from the blades clashing, life begins.
Their white petals now stained with blood,
like springtime roses about to bud.
Oh,i'm so enamoured with the bloom,
as blade fells, towards my impending doom.
The last sight before my light does fade,
is worth the pipers price i've paid.
Fields of clover, now littered Lilly white,
amidst the beatuy, my families rite.
The man who felled me, lifts his helm,
his strength beholds, like mighty elm.
A knight of quite some world reknown,
was the man chosen to cut me down,
A flower inscribed upon his steeled chest,
lays my wretched weary soul to rest.
To die by the hands, of flowered grace,
puts a withered smile upon my face.
The final lilly hits upon the clover,
I close my eyes.... it is over.