The one day Clarke met the commander,

The girl who was born on the ground,

Sure she would die at a young age, but for now she was safe and sound.

This woman, her personality hidden,

Her body went numb, after their first kiss she was totally smitten,

The harsh metal pressed against Heda's throat,

She seemed unfazed, remaining stoic, no gloat.

The Grounders call her Heda,

But Clarke called her Lexa,

Her fingers gliding down her loves soft skin, full of scars and mixed forms of previous damage,

She loves Lex,

Not using her just for the sex,

Each touch burns with passion,

Grabbing and shoving off pleasure in a swirl,

She never thought she would love this far away girl.

Their love bloomed until the one horrid night,

Each emotion shine so bright,

They had to hide their love from plain sight,

But they never got to see what was really in store,

There was nothing Clarke could do, sadly nothing more.

The spilling of tears and gore,

Grasping at Clarke's heart, the amount that stayed true, withdrew.

The last time they saw each other they never thought it would be nevermore.

No one will let her mourn,

Nothing but sadness and anger was born,

Everything crashed upon her like a thundering storm,

Leska kom Trikru, ai baton yu op nou moun.