The Purple Flower

Besides the woods, in the garth of royalty,

Bloom'd a planteth

A purple floweth'r besides a wist'ria tree,

Allured the majesty, her beauty,

Adored her, He.

Days passed by and so did the springtide,

The trees withered and the plants died,

And came the jinxed spell of flakes of white

Covered the graves, it overnight,

Her purple still shone bright.

The Majesty was perplexed,

"How on Earth is she still intact?", said he to himself

Then sauntered towards her and enquired,

"Blimey! Lady, how is it that you're the only thing alive in the fields far wide?"

"A future of destruction I saw, in my dreams last night,

It has kept me alive,

I must thrive to tell Majesty,

'Bout the coming plight."

"The hands of Majesty,

Will be the cause of adversity,

As soon as he'll kill the one,

Who loves him the most."

Majesty turned pale,

And ordered the Queen to leave the next day,

The dear ones were also sent abroad,

The King dropped all his swords and prayed to God,

"Lovers of mine are in galore, May I never touch them to kill with my sword."

Summer came and nothing changed,

The King's rage burst out of his cage,

He took his sword and ran towards the flower,

Brandished the sword with power,

The only remains were the petals of the poor flower.

The winds turned, the clouds too,

The earth shaked with a loud boom,

Majesty had no time to run,

The palace collapsed, the ground galloped every possession as hid the dying sun,

The gardens and the woods remained none.

Death and destruction,

Swept every single possession,

Amidst the ruins,

Happened a resurrection,

No one was left to envision,

Yet the seduction,

Had a purple tincture.