A first spring rain,
A first flower's bloom,
A love that comes from pain.
Beauty, this is-
I want it to myself, call me selfish.
A first winter storm,
A first love reborn,
A soldier proudly marching in his uniform.
This is beauty-
I want to hold onto it all, and never let it leave.
A last goodbye,
A final breath before one dies,
A life filled with nothing but lies.
Beauty, this is not
Misery, is what it is
I claim I want it all
But Misery, I do not want.