Anthracnose Disease

"As we are gathered here today..."

Gaze at the withered frown and wrinkles on her face.

She drowned in agony filled whimpers and violently muffled sobs.

You were the Gardener, clipping the petals off her

throat then throwing them in a trail to her tomb.

She lays silent with stems that shed blood. Stripped naked and left defiled.

Is it ironic to bury a flower you led to death?

You were the Gardener that ripped her roots from the marl.

Isolating her in a room of solutions that resulted in sorrow.

Poisoned her pistil

with sugar coated whispers of water, she wanted to hear...

You are the Gardener reaping reward from a long day; I am the fruitful tree.

You will look up at the sadistic smile and glare on my brow

as I fill your lungs with only the air of her name and strangle you with the thoughts of her! See as I extend my arms to you and act as a helping hand.

Pick from my limbs any delicious berry you desire, for this will be the last sweet thing you take from me again.

Your corpse will laze in my loathe filled shade while I wait,

for someone to find your lifeless body beneath the bark of my feet.

I am the standing tree. One axe chop of the question "How are you doing?" away from falling. "... and now I ask if anyone has anything they would like to say about the diseased?" What seems like 1,000 faces turn to me.

I am now the falling tree attempting to catch myself with frail branches. Attempting to speak while the shouts of "TIMBER!" surround me. How do I tell the world how much I loved you sister? How do I live without my heart? You were such a joy to me, and I am so sorry I wasn't able to save you from the cowards who hurt you...