Over The Garden Wall Ms Langtree's Lament Lyrics Novels & Stories

He fell forward, coughing, as his shadow returned to its solid, jagged shape. "Kaima?" he wheezed. "I’m here, Rowan," I said, helping him up. "And we’re going to kill the Gardener." --- ### The Root of the Problem The Gardener screamed—a sound of high-pitched feedback that made the white marble tree groan. "You are a parasite! You are destroying the perfection! If you will not be pruned, you will be **Uprooted**!" The ground beneath us began to shake. The beautiful green valley began to tilt, the grass turning into sharp, silver needles. The white tree began to grow, its branches reaching out like giant hands to crush us.

That very summit looked so far away. The wind howled through the lower branches of the majestic trees and through half opened tents. Men gathered around fires, sat and sang songs: Green green grass & willows; Weaving my sorrow. My yearning for thee. My yearning for thee. My yearning for thee. Quietly waiting for your return. Quietly waiting for your return. Tell me, my dear. Won't you come home? Won't you come home? Your homeland is longing for thee. Your homeland is longing for thee.

The old man smiled faintly, a smile that didn't reach his age-clouded eyes. "This garden was arranged to soothe the soul," he said, his hoarse voice like the rustle of dry leaves. "But it can also become a labyrinth for those with ill intentions. Please."

"You're right, Rose. I am truly blessed, and I will hold on to that. Thank you for being here, for listening, and for understanding." Rose smiled warmly. "That's what friends are for, Garla. We're here to support each other through both the joys and the hardships. And remember, the garden is a beautiful place to find solace and healing." As they continued their work, the sun's warm rays embraced them, casting a gentle glow over the garden. Garla's tears slowly dried, and a newfound strength replaced her initial sorrow. Together, they snipped away the dead leaves, nurturing the plants and cultivating a bond that transcended words.

she whispered. Cassian, theatrically, placed a tiny sunflower. “For chaos, courage, and flair,” he announced, bowing deeply. Adrian, ever precise, added a small herb. “For vigilance and care,” he said quietly. Lucian held my hand, his eyes reflecting pride and love. “This garden represents everything we’ve endured, learned, and built. It’s a legacy of life, not just documents.” I hugged him tightly. “And it’s ours to nurture, together. Always together.”

Lena rose from the bed and drifted across the chamber to the window. Her gaze fell upon the garden below. Once a haven of color and bloom, it now lay choked by weeds and withered by neglect. As she looked upon the dying petals, memory stirred within her. She recalled the first day she had stood there, a girl entangled in sorrow, her heart heavy with burdens not her own. It was then she had seen him, a man cloaked in quiet mystery, handsome and unreadable. Curious, she had drawn near, hoping he might serve as a welcome distraction from her plight.

Standing infront of a transparent wall facing a large part of the city, I stare at the thousand lights shinning in the darkness thinking Lia could be out there somewhere. I need to set things right, sleep didn't come easy with all the guilt plaguing at my heart strings because I had hurt the only woman who truly loved me. I hope it isn't too late to rewrite my wrongs. Lia stays with my thoughts and dreams as I drift off into a peaceful dream. 'I am standing in a garden full of daffodils, there's a lady holding a baby and her back is turned to me as she rocks the baby while she sings. "hello miss?" I call out but she doesn't respond I move forward to touch her but she disappears".

We get out of bed. We walk to the kitchen. We make coffee. We walk to the garden. We sit on the bench. The roses are blooming. The oak tree is tall. The sun is warm. The world is beautiful. "Laura." "What." "I love you." "I know." "Do you know how much?" "Tell me anyway." He takes my hand. He looks at the garden. He looks at the roses. He looks at the oak tree. He looks at me. "I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. More than I thought I was capable of loving. More than I deserve to love."

Some of the creamy spinach soup had splattered onto the couch, wilted spinach clinging to the armrest in a slimy mess. A pang of regret hit me. This was the last meal I'd ever make for Jayden. Even tossing it would've been better than this. Now, it was smeared all over the floor, making the whole place feel gross. But Jayden wasn't done venting his anger. He grabbed the mahogany chair and slammed it into the wall. The concrete had only been applied that day, and the impact tore a chunk out. A pale hand stuck out from the crumbling wall. One look from Jayden, and he'd see my corpse stuffed inside.

The wind whispered warnings through the scorched trees. Lyra stood at the edge of the ruined clearing where the Gate had once pulsed with light and wrath. Now, there was only a darkened scar in the earth, a faint shimmer in the air like a memory clinging to the world’s skin. The ground beneath her boots was cracked, but no longer pulsing with life—it was dormant, waiting. Watching.