There's a fairy flower that grows In the corner of my heart, And the fragrance that it spills Is the sorcery of art.
I may give it little care, Neither water it nor prune, Yet it suddenly will blow Glorious beneat the moon.
I may tend it night and day, Taking thought to make it bloom; Yet my efforts all will fail To avert the touch of doom.
When it dies, my little flower, You may take my life as well; Though I live a hundred years, I shall have no more to tell.
Takara Angel of Darkness · Wed Nov 02, 2005 @ 07:28pm · 0 Comments |