Do you hear them? The roots… They remember… I walk through the garden that buried my name. The flowers lean close with their faces aflame. They whisper the words I was meant to forget. I kneel in the ashes. They haven't burned yet. Too late… too late… They've opened the gate… I am the fury, I am the storm, Tearing petals, breaking thorns. Eden is fading, the daylight turns black. I am the thing that you couldn't hold back. I slip through the orchard, a serpent in skin. The fruit is still sweet with the rot setting in. The trees have gone thirsty, the roots have grown thin. I press through the soil. They pull my hands in. Do you feel it? The way the earth coils under my steps? It knows me now. It bows. I am the fury, I am the flame, Ripping the rose from the place where it came. Eden collapses, scorched in my path. You planted the fear. Now harvest the wrath. I speak, and the roots curl around what remains. They buckle the paths. They pull down the gates. From thorn-laced vines, I fashion my crown. They tighten their grip. I don't put it down. Root by root. Stone by stone. Nothing here Will let me go. Root by root. Stone by stone. Let it burn. Let it grow. I am the fury, I am the storm, Tearing petals, breaking thorns. Eden is burning. It burns at my call. I am the last thing Still growing through it all. I am the last… I am the last… Do you hear them? The roots… Still saying my name. Let Eden die.
