In the middle of a field
Surrounded by kith and kin
A rose blossom shouted
I have strength within
Culled by the farmer
Pushed into a posture of might
The blossom began to rebel
Against the farmer's right
Replanted into another field
Now left all alone
The rise seldom moved
Yet promised to atone
The cruelty of fate
Ere that winter sun
The rose blossom withered
Unwilling to overcome

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Chronos, in the year 823 AF.