Alone she walks the dusty vale; desolate, she gets by.
At the peak of her emptiness, she catches sight of yellow flowers,
Their saccharine scent is one of rarity.
She welcomes them with a hopeful heart.
Allurement and appeal find her again and she loses herself,
Her yellow flowers still stand strong.
Sickness and disease occupy her body,
Her yellow flowers remain.
Tears return to her eyes and sadness creeps back in,
Her yellow flowers see through the obscurity and soothe her pain.
Together they walk the dusty vale; hand in hand, they get by.
Her yellow flowers still standing high.