I used to have four. Four wonderful flowers, four /amazing/ beautiful flowers. Each was unique, each different, each special. I had help, a friendly gardener, he helped me grow my flowers more and more. I don't know where he went, but he never came back. I too left, but not for long. I myself was wilting, I feared to show this to the flowers, in fear of them wilting. I was wilting, but not in a way to harm others. It was slow, I watched them from afar unaware of my own demise leading up to the day we were somewhere new. I couldn't keep up, and soon, I left and never came back. I regret it. I should've spent my time more wisely. I watched, one with the acacias. I watched, the flowers, they separated. Each follows different suns. One wilted, I let them join me at the shore. A tropical shore, my seaside poppy. One more wilted, my black and red orchid. I let them join me at the depths of the caves. Two more, please do not wilt too. I watch with great interest, hoping for the best for you. There are more I care for, they may not be mine, but they matter a whole lot. My King Protea, become the best you can be, I am rooting for you. My Queen of Night, I help you through the toughest times, sickness and sadness, you are on top, do not give up. Some have left you, but you are not alone, I may be gone, but forever by your side. This garden. My beloved garden. All unique flowers, not all planted by me, but yet a care for all. From a regal Black Rose, the scheming duel colored Foxglove, the struggling Blue Bonnet, a stray California Tiger Lily, the crimson Laceleaf, and my Snapdragon and Dune Sunflower. Live on. I'll try my best to help with the white flowers spread in the ever black fields. Hear my sigh of relief as you live better, the sigh of the wind, listen close, for I will be there.
В конце концов, я не могу остановить мои цветы от увядания. Живи моей любовью, я буду вести своих других к жизни после смерти. Art : @pecuIiarIy
