Death is a dark flower, its perfume heady and dangerous as it pulls you into its bosom.
Dead ReflectionsLove doesn't always come when you want it to. Sometimes it just happens, despite your will.
Flowers in the AtticPeople only picked the pretty, sweet-smelling flowers. The ones with thorns were left alone.
FearscapeTheir beauty had always seemed to him like the beauty of pressed flowers - lovely, but dead.
Clockwork AngelDaisy, simple and discreet flower, That earned the heart of this poet.
Small Portion: a little taste of poetryPeace": the fruit of justice done especially to the Self.
The World Will Follow Joy: Turning Madness into Flowers