Heartthrob of Pasturelands.

I am a weed, sprouted into the greens of vale.

San weapons I came, only to be drown in the chaos.

I am the commoner, and my tones are introverted.

I veiled my charms from woods, espousal is my fear.

Dwellers’ try never actioned, I remain suffused with none.

I bore mediocre blooms, seldom toed the line of ancestors.

I’m called the flower child, and you’d see a ghost of smile.

Despite the dissonance, their aroha turned me agog.

I am the heartthrob of pasturelands, a dreamlike reality.