A garden of departure

Sits in a timeless place

A field that enraptured

Where there is no space

An untamed maiden

Sits amongst the flowers

With her worries unladen

In that of her final hour

Gazing about the wild weeds

She chooses her reason

Knowing the weight of her deed

She feels a bit of treason

From her own mind

A glance shows her downfall

She hopes it will be kind

And let time not crawl

Grasping the emerald stem

She takes a bite

Silently saying goodbye to them

She feels a bit of spite

Falling back onto the ground

She taste the spice

No longer worries being around

She cant help to say this is nice