I love being used
But lately I'm not in the mood
Flowers grew
Beside a tree with an empty noose
In the garden of doom
I think you'll be here soon

The ‘Sunflower’, the only good thing she claimed from her father, now looked like a breathing piece of meat, moving under her touch.
She yelped, tossing it to the floor.
It plopped in the puddle of blood with a dull, fleshy sound.
On the barrel, in clumsy, fresh scratches, slowly appeared Noah’s last words. 
“I’ll be a flower on your grave”.