'amor fati' – the beginning
The filthy nails of a deprived creature reach towards the fertile land of blooms– Frightened, terrified, disgusted, the blooms entomb themselves further underground, Forthwith comes the choking breaths of the atmosphere, who can only respond to the crawling gloom, The trees bend and crack, akin to the tough nailbeds that rip themselves apart, the unknown screeching and bound.
Lavender petals–majestic and angelic–battle to crawl out of the oppressed sensation of grimy hooks, Resisting with its vulgar appendages, the petal flesh blooms and quivers, Liberated, the lavender spreads around the many jewels, who quietly condemn the crook– For it only resides beside the jewels when it is convenient, repeatedly making them shiver.
The brute, long forgotten, burns in forbidden flame, Spreading its scorch, the indecisive wreaths notice their divine scents, Ephemeral and blessed by Aphrodite, they radiate in content, Buds previously buried rise to the songs of the Doves and Sparrows, no longer tame.
The chains to a cruel fate of an unfinished novel shatter loudly, No longer does the pungent metallic taste overwhelm the senses, Rather it fills the novel with words violets and lilies would flaunt in defense, At last, the garden of Eden burgeons to one of Amor Fati.
