Gardeners PartyThey hum inside my ear
as if to breath new thoughts into my head
to mold me into the deceit, created by these hallowed out shells.
I burn my subconscious, trying... trying
Trying to what? To become the decrepit member of a wilting crowd
The flowers do not grow here.They admit defeat.
And I shall become one of them if I do not reap my peace...
Peaceful, peaceful, Deadly life.
They will drown inside there strife and I will be the murderer.
Creating the wilting crowd, I will be there owner.
and under my watch...
These flowers will not bloom, for only Violent Blossom's can rule.