My broadsword rests on cedar wood
The rusted edge is where it stood
I watch the Monsterea climb
Slowly counting out the time
Sunlight on the heavy blade
Gold and green within the shade
Sown in soil and forged in heat
Now the quiet feels complete
Spathiphyllum cleans the air
I tend the leaves with patient care
Iron skin and velvet leaf
Finding joy inside the brief
Sunlight on the heavy blade
Gold and green within the shade
Sown in soil and forged in heat
Now the quiet feels complete
The attic window catches glow
Watching all the ivy grow
Old armor hangs upon the wall
Waiting for the winter fall
Sunlight on the heavy blade
Gold and green within the shade
Sown in soil and forged in heat
Now the quiet feels complete
Calathea folds its wings at night
Underneath the morning light
I trade the war for potting clay
Watching all the grey decay
No more marching in the mud
No more tasting salty blood
Just the rhythm of the root
And the tasting of the fruit
I speak the names in Latin tongue
While the morning bells are rung
Steady hands and steady breath
Life is blooming over death
Sunlight on the heavy blade
Gold and green within the shade
Sown in soil and forged in heat
Now the quiet feels complete
Just the soil and steel
Finally it feels real
Let it grow.
