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The Amaranth

You are the flower that grows within my soul. Your roots wind through my veins, and you bloom on a hill that was long forgotten. A flower that blooms at night... The one that turns her face toward the moonlight... A flower with petals so elegant… A flower so delicate and so graceful that even the swans bow to her beauty... A flower with a scent that can turn everything into something better and more beautiful... That is why I am growing and becoming more than myself. I am transforming into many things. I am the soil that feeds you. I am the raindrops that touch your petals gently. I am the wind that carries your scent to faraway lands.

Many people will come into this world. Eventually, all of us will pass away. We will all be forgotten, but the story of your everlasting beauty will linger in the air. People will whisper it. Some will write poems and songs in your name. Under the moonlight, many will search for that hill that was long forgotten. Long after you are gone, you will become a myth that everyone longs for. Children will grow up listening to your story:

Once upon a time, there was a flower, and she was the Amaranth.
She bloomed on a hill that had long been forgotten.
A flower that bloomed at night.
A flower that opened beneath the stars,
turning her face toward the moonlight.
"Within her, the essence of night... Within her, beloved Venus shines…”