The One Who Smelled of Spring

Verse 1
When he arrived, the air remembered green,
Dust lifted like it wanted to live again.
I hadn’t heard birds in centuries,
Yet wings knew his name before I did.
Gold in his eyes, not cruel, not kind,
Something ancient, disciplined, alive.
He bowed, not lower than needed,
Life does not kneel, it introduces itself.
Pre-Chorus
I asked him why the gods chose me.
He said, “Because you walked away.”
Chorus (repeating, mantra-like)
Life is not gentle.
Life is not fair.
Life survives everything
That tries to erase it.
Life is not gentle.
Life remembers how to begin again.
Verse 2
He spoke of roots breaking stone,
Of wounds that close out of spite.
Of creatures that crawl from ash and ruin
Just to prove the dark isn’t right.
“Destruction is loud,” he told me,
“But growth is patient and wide.
The end always thinks it has won—
Until something breathes beside it.”
Chorus (repeating)
Life is not gentle.
Life is not fair.
Life survives everything
That tries to erase it.
Bridge
In another shape, I saw his truth:
Talons, feathers, a crown of sky.
A griffin carved from dawn itself,
Watching worlds refuse to die.
Outro
He stood behind me, not before,
As if to say: you still choose.
Life does not command the future—
It only makes sure there is one.