Your petals gleam, taking away my sickness; your center glows, taking away my pain… The years fall away as you shine, reversing time to return me to my prime…
How wonderful you are, my precious flower…
My skin draws taut; scars fading, hues changing… My hair lightens; its colours bright, its curls tight… My body shifts; realigning, redesigning… I am reborn into my second life, again and again…
How lovely you are, my dear flower…
As the years whirl by, I watch you grow; from the seedling you were to the sprout of youth and the blossom you would become… Yet even as you begin to mature; from a babe to the child and finally the youngling – I remain as I am: an ageless beauty, forever fair…
How generous your gift, my beloved flower…
No longer requiring just an outcropping overlooking the sea, how should I hide you? No longer needing just the occasional sun and rain for sustenance, how should I feed you? Not a basket, but clothes… Not only grass, but a home… A small price to pay, but well worth my while; I must find ways to make you happy…
Are you happy, my little flower?
Never doubt I love you – and I do *so* love you… I would protect you with my life, nurture you with my soul – for you *are* my life, and you *shall* safeguard my soul… Without you, my world would shatter; an empty shell of hollow future…
Do not leave me, my pretty flower…
But today… Today, you ask for the impossible – you speak of the unthinkable! How dare you suggest such betrayal? How dare you imagine such treason? You are only a flower – you are *my* flower! My secret prize, my treasured horde! Mine, and no one else's! Mine, and mine alone!
Where did you attain such fire? When did you become so bold? How did you find out so much? Who has shown you the light?
Your eyes gleam gold, determination rising; your aura glows, courage renewed… The love you have for this man outshines that of what you reserved for me, like a shimmering halo eclipsing the sun… I am forced to acknowledge what is and what is not, forced to see what you are and are not: not a flower, but a person… not a flower, but a woman…
Not a flower – but a princess… and your name is Rapunzel…
… but to me, you shall ever be, my… sweet… flower…
