an unkown hero

drifting in the wind of justice

steady in the world of dread

plauge, despair, and eternal damnation

She Shines her light upon thee

the one's they forgotten, ignored

for she is the undying sun herself

Ready to bask the light on beautiful flowers

but burn those who choose to destroy

everything and her light

Truely it is we who are blessed

for she cares more for the garden

that grows, rather than the scarecrows

that protects us.

Pity those who live oblivious to her

elegance, for she who should

be loved most is not always known.

But it is I, the dandelion who

spots her, and feels the warmth  of

the light growing still.