With fuzzy fur and wings aglow,
Swee buzzes forth, a nectar flow.
Yellow stripes and pollen-dusted face,
A bee of cheer, leaving sweetness in its trace.
Once protector, gentle and bright,
Guiding flowers, bathed in sunlit light.
But shadows crept, and balance waned,
Twisting harmony, joy untained.
With buzzing wings and joyful hum,
It guards its domain, where blossoms bloom.
Honey drips, a golden sheen,
Whispering stories, secrets keen.
Legends speak of power untold,
Hidden within, stories unfold.
Can sweetness mend, where thorns reside?
Or will shadows linger, where blossoms hide?
Through fields of flowers and skies so blue,
Swee dances, dreams forever true.
Hope takes flight, on pollen wings,
Will harmony return, on joyous springs?
But deep within, a memory gleams,
Of vibrant meadows, bathed in sunlit beams.
Perhaps the bee, with fuzzy might,
Can mend the world, and set joy aflight.
So let it buzz, a golden grace,
And from the honey, chase shadows trace.
For Swee holds, a hidden key,
To mend the world, and finally, be free.