No one believes
My heart is a rose
Sharp thorns for protection
To weather through the storm
Waiting
The season blossoms
Like a bird expecting summer
My heart is a sword
Corrosion for protection
To weather through harsh time
The season journeys
Like a navigator looking for wind
My heart is a poem
Anxious exposition for protection
To survive the days
The season passes
Like a revolutionist
Anticipating the end of an age