The first sign of the times,
Beauty accompanies wisdom.
Faith belongs to everyone and no one,
And so,
She can hide and run,
But she won’t escape this one.
A love of small things deep,
A love for loves to keep
A burning desire to reap
A most perfect weapon,
For the sheep.
Isolated in light,
Sunflowers cry at night,
Their world fights,
It’s not all right.
But hope at first sight,
Is what might make it all right.
So beware,
For she’ll appear,
And oh, no fear,
She belongs here.
Appears lush,
Difficult to trust,
For you,
It’s a must.
And soon enough,
She’ll have your love,
And tales of deep,
True knowledge to keep.
And you mustn’t recklessly leap,
For what you sow,
You will reap.
