"I want to die for what I love" said the emerald flower...
Whose garden is in another world,
And that world is everything but emerald flowers.
Rippen apart by brains and hearts,
Standing alone between angels and demons,
Each one try to take control of their own domain...
Their own garden of emerald flowers.
Battling for their world's destiny.
Until there is no destiny or world to fight for... Nothing to love. No flowers to be planted...
And then it died... That old feeling of love.
That old me (flower).
Not because of disease (a plague came and the garden died),
N'or because someone killed me (I was the prettiest flower, so she plucked me first).
I died because of my old friend...
Time (rotten).
Use it carefully...
The Reaper loves it.
One day the emerald flower died,
And fire rained from the tree.
Releasing the hopeless screams and dreams
Of those who just wanted to be free.
"Die" said the wolf to its prey.
"Cry" said the sword to the heart.
"Remember" said that memory to a feeling,
And the flower sang of "Love" and that dead sensation of living...
So nearly loved.
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