The maiden of peach blossoms

In a village of peach blossoms,
Which used to be as peaceful as could get;
A great war broke out,
Between the high and mighty fallen angel,
And the once harmonious, immortal Lord.
Over a pretty little girl,
Born from trees of pink;
The Lord's consort,
And the Demon's fiend.
The maiden born,
Was thereby killed.
Murdered in the hands of her rival's niece.
All were in despair,
And the Lord yelled in fright.
Of his little fairy's,
Bloodstained skin.
The body buried,
Where now a great tree stands.
Every fourth of July,
A stunning peach blossom is born;
To honor the death,
Of His Lord's lost and gone.

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