A mother of young age, delicate as the rarest gem of them all
she begged for a prize she could have to herself after 2 losses of such smalls
With all her might, day and night, she prayed to sweet nature as she was one with spirits
"A prize is all I seek, something of mine with clever and love. Solace and joy."
Every day she pray until one day a ladybug landed on a flower that the mother was holding.
Both items change into a baby girl, eyes sweeter than sugar.
Smile brighter than a sun.
Scent softer than lavender.
Natural baby, natural energy, natural Nature.
The young mother, known as a queen to her community shares her news.
The cheer and love spread light through the village.
Life arising.
Joy vibrate and radiant.
"Sweet child, I name thou LadyBug. I give thou joy and my life to cherish thou.
My child. My prize. My reward.
Spreadth our village, with deepest emotion.
Share your love and I do the same.
We thrive through expression and never hate.
Crime shall be punish until vanishment.
Love shall rise. Sweet LadyBug, Welcome to life Darling~"
Life indeed a love.
Indeed a loophole.
Indeed limited.
The years grew onto Ladybug but her soul never aged. Innocence can be immortal like the devil only with Angels cry.
Vibrant humming. Colors everywhere we look.
"I see passion, I live, we live.
ergo, nature is simple, although I wish simple would be easier than complexity of evil deeds.
Therefore, an evil deed is simpler than those poisoned with radiation. Forget pure entity."
"Mother, I am concerned. I can't be in unholy territory nor be the holder on unholy."
"Ladybug,"
"Mother Divine.."
"..Unholy as the serpent. Holy as those with hearts of an angel. For color is a privilege as to life."
"We limits, big dreams..dreams explode and burn."
"Be like a tree. Wait for the rain to feed you and patience shall be an element of nature too. Just as you are no pure but of grace and pure innocence."
Mother was always simple. She loves me.
Simple satisfied me like mother did.
Mother loved al.l
Although I enjoyed sly deeds of evil and yet to return restoration.
Simple hates me, complex to my mind, my soul never grows old as do I.
Yet in the dark..I see a girl.
Melancholia.