Pure struck with a snowdrop and bit of a luck!

Hope awakens in the morning light.

Luck descends in crimson shine!

Pure as white, and gentle at sight,

Luck descends in crimson shine.

Upon the bloom, so small, so bright,

Hope awakens in the morning light.

A snowdrop bows, yet stands so true,

Its petals kissed by the morning dew.

A ladybird pose its fortune’s mark,

Together they ignite with joy from the dark.

I speak of spirit, soul, and flame,

Of humanity’s quest, our endless aim.

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