Final Destination

Asleep in floret's fragrant hue august,

In ruins since already plucked and dead.

I Ponder, why the castle is only sought, 

A final resting place is mortal dust.

A seed unfurls becoming bloom robust, 

Altar to tomb mellow amazing ride,

Goodbye of birds and bees tribute at last,

Asleep in floret's fragrant hue august.

If born, perish, decay, it surely must,

To glide its way to His domain divine,

Asleep is a sense with no burden of life.

A final resting place is mortal dust.

Asleep in floret's fragrant hue august,

I too agree it's time to bid adieu,

A final resting place is mortal dust.