A flower blossoms during springtime’s morn.
The vision blinding, stunning iris bloom -
unmoving, never wayward, always dorned.
This bloom unmatched attraction will bring spume

and they rejoice having a great old time,
None have found any light ‘gone away.
The reaper watches her, infectious slime -
bent on killing and envious of they ,

But shine o’comes his harmful deadly hand;
The brightness of youth shields them from the spree.
Cherub of death has since now lost command,
A world now rid of one horrid banshee.

All people free until it is their time,
and reaper cannot pull off with his crime.