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Lone, grow forth from the swamps of death

The mire with apathy and despair

Droplets glisten on her leaf

A beacon of hope calling to me

Webs of deceit so wretched and dark

Enshrouding the branches leaves and bark

Tendrils of the memories past

Creeping to the sun and leaving their mark

Pale orchid

Pale orchid

Mist gathering now clouding my head

Among the decay and among the dead

White rise the petals and the leaf

A beacon of life and of disbelief

Veiled in a slumber the trees who surround

And their growth be stunted for the myth of the shroud

For the day now rises and she is not dead

Yet the mire now crumbles and trees fall with it

Pale orchid

Pale orchid