A flower in the midst of a radioactive field
A mystery, with life surrounded by death
Unexplained, but with vibrant detail
It sways in the breeze, as the wind brushes over
Around there is barren land
Around there is destruction and poison
Toxic, a favourite word of those side by side
With no real view of the root of the fumes
A heart being slowly broken down to the core
Without great explanation of the things it will cause
So what is the flower to do in the midst?
When everything around seems broken and bleak?
It lifts its eyes to the sun and seeks for its warmth
It ignores all the calls to submit to the flaws
It chooses to grow, and to listen to the Son
For it knows the answers, and is willing to come.
Come little flower, to the source of the light.
Come little flower, come with all of your might.
-Christy Grace
Christy Grace Scarlet Pen 