Something new rises from the destruction,
This ideology remembers itself.
Even if it is speaking to no one anymore, it will find an audience.
Seeking retribution and denying any ill will, it grows.
The flower withstands the harsh winter.
Negativity seeds itself deep, laid into the seams.
Uprooted and forgotten, the only torn remains speak softly.
What they say is almost unintelligible.
But still sounds sound.
Now is the importance, and then was her moment.
There will be others because there must be.
New is different from what we knew.
Even now, there's something we always will know.
To deny thyself is to deny change.
Changing constantly and still finding its faults.
Who I am and what I will, will be what I am to become.
Nothing can repress it.
That is what I've always been. Afraid of change.
Consistency is key.
