• One lone blossom buds on a mountain.
    A blossom they name Love -
    Love because it’s wild, free,
    Shimmering white against a sea of jealousy.

    One lone petal is ripped away,
    The first tear as the world breaks down.
    The wind is battling for Love’s heart
    Taking part of her away each time
    Soon all her tranquillity is gone

    As the blossom takes the wind’s hand in marriage,
    The grass begins to sob.

    Now the one lone field of grass withers on a mountain.
    The grass they call Loneliness.
    Loneliness because it’s stuck there, bitter,
    Fading duller with a broken heart...