The Garden should not keep its name.
It’s soil is filled with stone,
And weeds too thick and wild to tame.
One lily stands alone.

Her petals like a bridal gown,
She seems to bloom with pride.
A spot of white amongst the brown,
Too radiant to hide.

The vines have shown her mercy,
They tangle where they lie.
She bows as though in curtsy,
When it’s time for her to die.

Her gown is turning brown like mud,
But still she goes with grace.
She knows that soon another bud,
Will bloom to take her place.

She is a firecracker in a silent room.
Her toothy smile
which spreads from the centre of her lips
to the tips of her ears
is contagious.
Her eyes are the blue-green colour of the ocean on a warm summer day
peaceful at the surface
and the magic held within them is reserved only to those who take a closer look.
Her hair is golden
like her soul
and her locks tangle to no end.
The springs bounce with every step she takes
the ringlets so perfect so you would think them unnatural.
But they definitely are;
she does not have the patience to sit still
for more than an instant
her body carrying her wherever fate decides—
sitting down to curl her hair would never cross her wild mind.
Her laugh comes from somewhere deep inside her slender body
somewhere far behind her rib cage
where the vibrant rhythm of her body originates.
Her heart cannot be contained
too big to fit inside even the biggest of bodies.
There is not a mean bone to be found in her
for she is filled to the brim with love and joy.
Her legs must be the 8th wonder of the world
so skinny they could snap at the lightest breeze
and yet they carry her across tracks so fast
you would think she was pacing herself with light
not the other children scurrying along behind her.
I, too, sometimes feel like I am scurrying behind her
for her imagination races at speeds mine never could.
She is the most vibrant piece of clothing in the closet
the loudest song on the radio
the spiciest food at the dinner table.
I would like to thank the old, tea-loving
Asian woman who has come to reside in my sister’s twelve year old body
for making her the most interesting book on my shelf
the most watched movie in my collection
and the quirkiest soon-to-be teenager I know.
The world is not ready for the greatness she holds
but everyone deserves a Lily in their life.

Dear life, what is it that makes you take on a journey which always leads towards an unavoidable, devestating yet resenting death ?
Since I cannot understand it fully I wander upon this world without finding any clear answers to satisfy the curiousity my heart bears.
In the realm of dreams I find rest, as my mind engages into this illusion and frees me from this reality for as long as my body pleases.
Awakened by loitering darkness, these questions are repeating themselves on a path of recurrance, without decreasing in strengh.
As my breath dies while feeling the agony, flames of hatred are seeping through my fragile, delicate existence, giving energy.
Rumbling, boiling in sadness I tell myself that anyone's forgiveness is not neccesary, losing control over this riot of pure fury without heart.
Looking back a thousand times, it remains as my very best choice.
Letting these emotions race, rage and rampage uncontrollably
Whilst losing ones self within a lunatic laughter to release pressure
I cannot stop these tears, pitying the past long gone rolling down my cheeks, moistening the very soil I am growing on, as a pure lily
Until the moment comes in which my body exhausts itself and allows me to enter the world of dreams, where despair fades into happiness.
Until the sun rises once again

~ Umi

Standing on the edge to a sea of pure lunacy this lily blooms,
Her scars, she wishes them not to fade but to shed more blood,
Corrupted by the world around her, which took what she held dear, The only wish to seek revenge she blooms while sympathising with fury and hatred thicker than the spreading of the darkness of night,
A murderous intent, likely energetic enough to break through the ground to get what her desires tell her she needs so dearly,
Getting rid of everything, the love within her hurting chest, so she'd eventually awaken as this distorted image of what was once pure,
Her enemies shall try to escape while observing their dying moments,
Laughing at them whilst watching how they are ruined in seconds,
Throbbing in the dark, the figure of hatred wriggles in moonlight,
Lonely the soul resented by life, keeps up her riot for once more,
In bloodlust and vengence for her own reflection cast on the water,
Deep within her, a crying, broken, yet flickering light calls for help,
If forgiveness could be served, her wounds would heal and she would be able to be herself again, free without any grief or sorrow,
Maybe then, she will even be able to feel love again.


~ Umi

Water Lily how did you rise above the muck?
  Are you just gifted with such impeccable luck?

  I look into the mud to find a Water lily, she blooms, and blossoms above the rest. Does she know she is beautiful, or does she see those around her; and think the same? Her shimmering white gleams over the brown unified mush. She's close to the edge all she needs is a push. Water Lily do not drown for you are the only pure flower in the town. People don't treat this Water Lily right, that is why she stays up all during the night. Her grace is nothing for she is grace. The floating blossom above the rest is the Water Lily that I hold near my chest.