Sonnet for the Flowers

If flowers burn, then ash doth fill the sky
Like morning come at first night's break, so I
Lay waste afront: to death's sweet misery
A murd'rous sight, light; afront mine eye, die
Afford me grace Oh Lord! thine glory fade
The tempest Beast doth rage with fierce conceit
Like new born Babe, allayed in sleep beneath the shade
He slyly slithered up and snapped my feet
And Vile did spread, 'mongst limb and entity
Though trialed breath hath out mine lungs escaped
But You were there, 'gainst death delivered me
And like great statues crumbling at the stake,
   Mine life hath been reshaped, alas remade
   'Twere glory and thine grace that shall remain