I started afresh, in a new place. Lost in it's size, asking
people how to get from here to there. In the middle of my
wandering I reached somewhere. I didn't have time to spare,
but I had to stop. It was a beautiful garden, in the middle
of life, middle of chaos. Others seemed not to notice, along
they went with their lives. I came a bit closer, taking in
the sights and smells.
Then I noticed it.
One flower, prouder than some, taller than most, prettier
than all.
I knew it was wrong, it wasn't mine, it belongs to the
wilding, but I had to. Looked around and in a gentle swipe I
took it. Just later I noticed it's splinters, blood
drawing.
And so it went, my little corner of peace, among all the
chaos.
I didn't find the garden again, but wasn't bothered cause I
had a wild flower of mine, prouder than some, taller than
most, prettier than all.
I won't say it was easy - in days of storms it was unquiet,
fighting, hurting, but after a while it returned to peace.
And I... I had my wild flower.
Till one day, the myth goes it was a day of storm, but the
myth is wrong. The Grey skies surrender no warning.
One day it bled me free. I started wandering again amongst
the chaos to find my corner of peace. I was lost again, and
lost I found once again the garden. I approached, amazed to
find my wild flower in its spot again.
I was lost, and so I came back to the garden over and over.
I realized that several others are stopping by. Some of
them, too many, also looking at the wild flower, mine! No
more.
They told me about themselves, how they also tried to take
what's not theirs, bleeding and failing. They told me a
legend, about a knight, with an iron fist covered with silk,
and so able to hold it without bleeding or hurting the
flower.
But this way, would he be able to notice closely it's
beauty, to fill its softness, I wandered, could it be me?

And I guess it won't me, but I still wish she'll get her
knight, cause she deserve it.
The once mine wild flower.