In my damaged hands i crafted a flower.
Even if it was small, the flower meant something to me.
In the pedals that were a faded rainbow shade, i made a wish so simple that day...

The wish even if it was impossible was for happiness.
Though unseeable the pedals had turned darker with regret.
I sang a song of detestable things, or tears that left a high pain, a sting.
Can i really get rid of these words so easily that tied around my neck, the red string?

As years the flower faded “happiness” is so misleading.
At best the flower in my hand, i realized had no meaning.
It was artifical and didn't help my seeing.
Maybe this is what my being means.

Singing of the smiles, that had behind them fear.
(Such a detestable song, to what do i hold dear?)
So many questions in my head
(Following the wrong arrows, and giving up instead)
I'm confused inside, and I don't know where i am
(The string pulls tighter again.)

Cast away, cast away.
The flower wilts today as i say these words with meaning.
And the wish comes true i made that day.
They say that sorrow is the only way to go.
What is lies and truths i shall never know...

But in the place of the flower i once crafted with my hands;
Grows a rainbow rose and everything makes sense...