Buffeted at whim by a churlish wind,
Gusting from the black hole of time.
The tiniest seeds came at last to rest
Upon a fallow ball spinning 'round a
Golden sun. They crept out of the ground
one night, vicious things with dark designs,
To control the wayward woman's mind.
Using fluttery petal charms they
Like lovers in her arms.
Oh black diabolical mind control, doth
A cracked bell toll, for every lithesome
Lass clutched now in a sordid Mass.
O' how the perfume-spray-narcotic flows,
While a callow effluence grows,
Much to the consternation of all
free and innocent Men. Men who gaze
In stupefaction and just cannot but keen
In torment, at this change of demeanor.
How little do all men know? For 'tis
the Daisies and the Daffodils, that lurk
atop yonder rolling hills, who have replaced
Them in sweet love's affections.
How could he know? For is this evil not
Disguised as dainty decorations. Who
Would believe they are maniacally plotting
The vilest of wills? Having infiltrated gardens
And even been placed in tiny earthen pots!
The better to control their thralls while
awaiting and anticipating that glorious day.
When the reign of the chilling flower buggers,
Blossoms throughout the chosen land.
Then these cackling monster flowers will hold
The reins of power, and thus the ruin and
ruination will begin, over an enthralled and
subjugated man. O' the Daisies and
The Daffodils have spread beyond yonder
Hills. It is by the thinnest whisker on my
Chin, I have escaped a mortal blow.
I overheard the evil buggers conspiring with
A winsome wench, appalled I gasped "no! "
And luckily my fleet feet carried me
Beyond their clinging clasp. Seeking refuge
In a in a slimy cave by the sea. I await my death
in trepidation. For I know I was seen.
I am making one last desperate try before I die,
To enlighten everyone. But I fear it is too late.
Yet still I pen this missive with my blood,
Upon a piece of fabric torn from vestment
Cloth. In the hope that any who might find and read
These words be warned, and hearken
Quickly before the final hour that man
Be spared an unholy fate. "Oh God no!"
I sense a presence of a cloying essence I
Must once more flee
(manuscript found in a cave by a thrall of the flower queen)