Violets Die, Thorns Roam
Upon the hallow ground that once was god, a lovely violet bean its birth. Its blossoming beauty overwhelmed the worn headstone, and it soon began to surround itself with others such as it.
But, of course, this beauty was a lie. One last feeble attempt for the damned creature, whom they call god, to give itself rebrith. The trush was knownto the All. And the presious petals that Lie had watered were crushed into the dirt to let the even more precious throns roam freely.