(it isn't well known)
on the face of this Earth,
Where the Moss Campion has grown.
There is a lake,
it's waters freezing still,
where once upon a date
I gave up my free will.
And to this day,
where the frozen snow rests
and heavily weighs
upon a violet's chest
There lies the thing
I cherished the most.
With the broken string
of my childhood host.
There evergreen,
lies my spirit to fight
next to these peregrine
treasures of mine.
There is a place,
(it isn't well known)
on the face of this Earth
and the Campion still grows
One day when I come back,
the land-overgrown
will greet me, intact,
and have swallowed them whole.
