The Story of Three Flowers

I want this to be chilling.
I want you to fear us.
I want you to remember that even in our darkest hour you cannot impair us.

We were forged by your firing squad;
Impaled with your inaccurate recollections.
We were the Lone Cypress, held together by our roots,
Roots sheltering each new sprout.

Beautiful oleander, saving our race from obliteration,
Lily of the valley, they envied your looks.
They bit at your flower, and the poison took.
I watched with satisfaction as they painfully closed their eyes.

I begged and bled.
I hung my head low and tried to avoid the eyes of the devil.
I hid under my leaves lightly, gently, swaying in the breeze;
A dance of pure seduction.
I moved quietly because I did not want to attract your attention,
But I was the angel's trumpet.
Their favorite instrument in fact,
So, it was no surprise to me that when the devil had a chance he attacked.

Lazarus' Bell…I was not always tainted with rage,
But you forced me to compete with my own.
You told me I was not good enough for my thrown,
So, I became the charmer, amusing the snake,
Becoming more venomous than them, by no mistake.
They may bite, but I patiently wait;
Waiting for my next victim to take the bait.
They are either fascinated by me, or horrified.
Either way, they all gradually give in
And I let my darkness kill them from within.

They call me Lazarus for a reason.
I rose from the dead.
I came back for a vengeance;
A need to cause fear.
I was a checkered beauty,
Until you plucked me from the bunch.
You put me on display and told me not to talk too much,
So, my mouth stayed shut, but my mind open.
I became aware in ways unbeknownst.

Lurking around at night,
Smiling pretty in the day,
Warming the room like the sun
With a heart so cold, like the blood in my veins.

I was in de'nile,
Trying to wash away my guilelessness.
I became one with the evils of this world,
Eliminating my quarrelsomeness;
Ways that helped my ancestors survive

Because you go out in the world and pretend,
So, when you see me, I get the back end
Or your back hand;
A checkered beauty.

With your special scar, to show the world I was owned, and marked,
I was raped as a slave
And beaten as a wife.
I am Lazarus' bell.
Resentment runs deep in my well
And for every time you made my eye swell.

I've got tunnel vision.
I became your venomous snake.
I became my own weapon
And one day I got strong and left him,
And as I looked at my reflection in the muddy puddle,
I realized that by leaving you, you would be in more trouble.

I saw myself the way the world saw you,
The way the world saw us…
And I realized that with you?
I was not through.

……. A beautiful flower, growing by de’nile.