Will someone kiss the flower,
that burdens her garden?
That ceases to relinquish her thrown?
Take this thorn and plunge it down,
for in the ground I fall to ought,
be withered as she in her glorious reign?!
A queen no more—I shutter to feign,
LIFE!—Gives me no more struggles,
but indeed I wish to kiss the flower,
that has befallen the winter’s curse,
and has been laid before me,
as a new rebirth!
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