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Come and grow, flourish, free
Bend thy bows, trees
So light may shine through like glass
Dance flowers and grass
Write thy name upon the wind, seeds
So you may root and grow without heeds
Bend thy stems to her
Raise thy petals to her
Shake thy leaves to her
To the blessed gardens keeper
The world was ending. Or really it was growing. It was thriving.
It was humanity that was ending.
Finally, finally, ending. And what a sweet nutritious ending it would be.
They’ve hurt the world, the planet, nature, for so long. Now they would repay their debts, give reparations for their harm, and return to the soil. And upon their decomposing flesh the children would feast. Would grow and bloom. Reclaiming the world.
New. Beautiful. Flowers and grass. Trees and brush.
Like it should be.
Like it should have always been.
She couldn’t be happier.
Couldn’t be happier.
Couldn’t. Be. Happier.
Couldn’t be happier that she would get to see it through. Couldn't be happier for the green she loved to grow so. Couldn’t be happier that he chose her to pamper and adore the children. The sweetest grapevine and the tallest evergreen. The deadliest of nightshade, whose name has become her own.
A nightshade snuffing out the darkness and poison that is the weed of humanity. For the children. For her true father. For nature’s beauty. For the true rulers of all life.
The boy. Phantom. He could join with her. Yes he could. Father would let her have him.
But otherwise, he must die. To be devoured. To feed the children. He would make them so strong. It’s almost more tempting than to keep him.
But he was her chunk of jade, so much better than the man-made diamonds the humans love to peddle. Disgusting things. Her jade boy, she could polish him into a gem in the garden.
If only she could have him too. Then her greatest joy. Her true happiness. Would be seen realised. Nature’s prince and his precious NightShade. And father would care for them so. Provide them everything. Just like the care the children receive.
Oh it would be wonderful.
She can hardly wait.
The only thing that could make this better is if those human ‘parents’ of hers were conscious. If she could watch the children devour them alive. Their mortal flesh writhing in pain and disgusting human faces contorted in horror.
Oh how delectable that would be.
But it wasn’t worth the risk to the children. That they might claw at or bite the children.
No nothing was worth risking the children.
Not even Phantom. Not even herself.
If her death was what’s best, then she’d die happily.
But every garden needs its caretaker.
Her.
The gardens princess of green.
A nightshade in love with a ghost-pipe.
These are seeds which I have sown,
Allow the children to be grown,
Through blight and storm and desert strife,
Give nature her deserved abundant life,
Grow them tall and fit and thick,
Let them come about true and quick,
Earth of tender love and care,
Grow them tall into the air,
Beautiful, bright, and true,
Make this world good as new,
Through my hands and maybe my princes too,
Ensure the existence of all other life becomes taboo
And with these seeds and blooms
Our happy future finally looms
End.