Lilium,
Ah, you fascinating flower, an old gardener who still looks after his duty, mumbled to himself in awe of the stargazer and spider lilies,
They seem so majestic, yet innocent to the extent of a wounderous aura sent by their gentle yet stinging smell, spreading across the room
He said to himself that maybe,  if they are as beautiful and heavenly as he thought,their taste should be beyond reasoning goodness, sweet
Just one bite later, the taste engaging in his old mouth has caused him to become numb, confused and with an irrigular heart rate, paralised.
Oh such an intent, to punish all those who dare to bring ruin to their glory by eating them, trying their taste with death ? Truly murderous.
Seeping through his body before slowly draining his poor life force, the fate of an unknowing man who had become the vessel of great unfolding fury of a flower which seemed to be so kind before hand.
A treasure is alike a flower, the gift of life resembling its beauty and hournour, growing proud until the sweet poison of death overtakes it
When I knew the meaning of eternity you were no longer there, Darling

~ Umi

Far on a lunatic sea, filled with tranquility and serenity, love and devotion, some flowers have made it their goal to bloom in purity,
Innocent looking, sweet and with a scent from amongst the heavens,
Tricking their foolish, mindless pray to come closer to them while seeping in spite and hatred, longing for revenge for their reflection,
A soft breeze accompanies the starlit sky, transient moonlight lurks through in a ghastly, bluish horizon as it rises to claim the heavens for his own once he had reached its fullest phase, ahh those phantoms,
Gone mad through a night full of punishment and bloodshed,
Before the petals can scatter in a dawning sky they seek for an intent,
Finally an attempt would be able to be made, a pity human draws near, weeping in sorrow and grief, causing them to shake excitedly
As then their roots would rush out of the ground and imprison him,
Twisted illusion of diversion, as they pierce through skin and bones, dragging his struggling, flailing body underground,remaining unseen
Feeding on his blood, using his corpse as a fertiliser they stay pure,
Moved for one instant, they dive deeper into the soil of this landscape
Hatred twines around them, causing disturbance in their memories,
It is alike to be left in an accelerating world of recurrance, everlasting,
Until the sunrise has dyed the sky in red and everything replicates

~ Umi

You tell me that this is where it ends

But think of the lilies
bourne up, aloft
upon slim green limbs,
how they dip to the earth
touch their toes then
salute the sun
in rhythm with the wind -
the sky, her every breath
And how their delicate legs might snap
bearing an overzealous bumblebee
Yet they coat the valley floor
a scourge of beauty
Resilience

Breathe in their life exuded
from tremulous petals -
Take it for yourself.
Feel their leaves under your feet
Allow them to paint your toes
with their blood, vert - the colour of life

And I dare you to tell me that this is not where it begins

lilies, esoteric riches

My heart
sprouted lilies
when they buried me
without a casket.

It’s not usual to feast on snap-dragons in the cold months
Or run naked through un-sketched woods reeking of incense
And gloom, ridiculing the battered men on crudely carved crosses-
Dribble running from their loose-lipped mouths tumbling into rivers.
The soul, recently discoloured, doesn’t stay long in such corrosive
Environments where time runs furiously along a thin elastic band
Springing backwards then stretched to eternity.
It isn’t usual to feast on snap-dragons in the cold months
Keeping warm before the incumbent gates of hell
Afraid to sweep the snow away from the garden and live.
To sweep away the snow, now turning brown, and gild
With shafts of gold the fallen lily.

A Lily hurt me deeply
How could something so soft be so hard
It poked and it shamed me
With it's lilac petals and green bone
When I touched it,  felt softness
When I looked away, sensed stone
This is what the Spring gave me!
A soft looking Lily
With a penchant for scorn

Writing a poem
under the moon
Contemplating
on a wooden chair
The silky curtains
spread their wings.

I hear a voice
your call at night
echoing on walls
I leave the ink
and run down
over the meadows
over the fields
and the moon
lightens my path.

The woods is dark
but does not halt
my rush toward you
I run for a while
I run for years.

In your room
is a coffin inside
on top of it are flowers
a bouquet of liliac lilies
I don't hear your voice
anymore. It is dark.
I sit by there for years.

It took centuries
to reach you
and seconds
to love you.
The moon on the hill
is standing still.

I dreamt last night and it was a dream filled with red flowers.
You, pinning me down.
Sweat.
The beach.
Big bodies of water.
Gunshots.
Rivers of blood.
Funerals.
Funeral flowers.

You said that lilies are funeral flowers but I kept dreaming about roses.

You pushed me to the edge and I awoke in a cold sweat and it's like breathing but not getting enough oxygen in and you're drowning and I'm still dreaming about roses.

You kissed me on the cheek and whispered sweet nothings into my ear while we followed the moonlit path through fields and forests and by the time we reached our final destination it was sunrise and I guess I understand now why you say lilies are funeral flowers because they're everywhere now, they're all I can see and you're gone.

You lead me to these lilies and then you left and nothing hurts quite like being alone with your funeral flowers.