At the core of each endlessly loud universe, there is a lawless gathering
Compounded of your doleful angels screaming and my vexed demons crying
As the universe comes mute, for in that silence they hear shattering voices
Of dreadful souls begging someone named “God” not to take you away
Such noises that rapidly grow into drowning sounds of slow burning souls
But enough to distinguish words of praise for one called “Lily of the valley”

Once blameless guilt and idle love are to carefully occupy my very spirit
I shall call upon Thee, Celestial Father, and await your merciless antiphon
Reciting how one could fathom the thought of a mother rejoicing your Heaven
Although her only Heaven remains nevertheless on your deserted planet Earth
But perhaps your Garden demanded a flower such prosperous and so unique
That even Thee could not recreate another one akin to my Lily of the valley

And they’ll forget her tired smile once I’ll remember those everlasting eyes
Showing a reflection of old days when breathing felt like overcoming suicide
Even if this inner death seemed to grow more alive in your soul’s presence
Your aura was built on helpless hands and old traumas disguised as shelter
Where small humans would weep begging for acts of parental affection
Even so, I still want my flower back. Where is my earthly Lily of the valley?