Tangled Flower Song Lyrics Novels & Stories

“I’m coming for you!” The giant flower petals shuddered, one cracked slightly opening as she saw a glimpse of him—his hand reaching out, with blood stains on his knuckles. Her heart raced with relief and panic as she screamed, “Vincent!” She shoved the sharp piece of broken root deeper, twisting it as the ground shook beneath her. The ground buckled and the garden's whispers turned into frantic screams: “Betrayal! Betrayal!” Her father’s voice broke through the chaos, louder than everything else. “Do you dare harm what belongs to you? This flower is part of you. The lace is yours. If you tear it apart, you are hurting yourself.”

He gazed at me, he was perplexed. "Where is this question coming from, of course, you should know I am damn attracted to you, from day one at that library, you snatched my breath away and somehow you haven't given it back to me, till now," I was blushing, my cheeks turned pink, and I flustered in shame. Why does his words sound like rhythm to my ears and birds to the sound of my whisper?

I want for what I love to go on living and as for you I loved you and sang you above everything, for that, go on flowering, flowery one, so that you reach all that my love orders for you, so that my shadow passes through your hair, so that they know by this the reason for my song. ......

That means I did that, didn't I? I closed my eyes and wanted nothing more than to tear it into pieces angrily and throw it away. But I need to go on. If I wanted to move on I had to read it. 'Want to tear it and throw it away, don't you? But don't. Just listen to me. I'm so sorry. I know it doesn't matter what I say. But I just need you to know this. Just this. Take all the clues and take the first letter of all the flowers in the order you received them. Please. The last flower was Ursinia in case you forgot.'

He had kind eyes and a voice that sounded like the wind in the trees. “It looks sad,” the old man said. “I don’t know how to make it happy,” Lira sobbed. “Everything has a story,” the old man said. “Even your flower. Maybe it’s not thirsty for water. Maybe it’s lonely for its own song.” He began to hum, a simple, made-up tune. He encouraged Lira to hum with him. They sat there, the old man and the little girl, humming a silly, gentle song to the wilting flower.

The little fellow held the microphone and said, "I am player No.10, Tang Tang. My show today is named Before the Flowers and Under the Moon." "It must've taken the little girl a lot of courage to sing one of Ouyang Shanshan's song." "That's Ouyang Shanshan's song. I like it so much, but I'm not sure the little princess can sing it well." The woman behind the curtain started to play after Tang Tang said that. The melody was flowing which was exactly the prelude of Before the Flowers and Under the Moon. The little fellow sang happily. Her voice was sweet and her rhythms were perfect. The audiences started to applaud soon after she started to sing.

A thorn scraped against my finger, one the florist had missed trimming while making the arrangement. I let out a curse as I popped my finger in my mouth and held the flowers with my other hand. I saw a card and I grabbed it. My fingers shook as I dropped the flowers and opened the card. "May all your sunrises be as vibrant May all your dreams be fulfilled. She is safe here until we meet again on the other side."

After our little exchange, I expected him to give up, but no, he kept pocking me; I tried glaring and hitting him but did nothing but fuel him up; he kept at it until I found myself singing along. ---I recognize your fragrance, hol’ up, you ain’t never gotta say shit, Uh And I know your taste is a little bit, mmm, high maintenance, uh Everybody else basic, you live life on an everyday basis With poetic justice, poetic justice If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it? I mean, I write poems in these songs dedicated to you when You’re in the mood for empathy, there’s blood in my pen---

Then he fixed two fingers into my honeypot, and I hummed. "Like it?" That wasn't a question, because he was already circling inside me—sharp pains sending shivers down my spine. He was punishing me for cuming into his mouth. "Say something to me, sweetheart. I don't like it quiet when I'm fucking my favorite toy," he whispered. "Please, just take me already." I was able to say just that because my brain was short-circuiting. Nothing had ever felt so right. "Have this, then."

Baby Zetty postured herself and started to play her daddy and mommy’s love song, Red Spider Lily. The sound was elegant while the rhythm was steady. The song was morose yet beautiful. It was hard to tell if the music was meant to impart a blooming love or a sorrowful, heavy sigh. However, Jay was excited by the melody of the song. “Mm. That was nice,” said Jay sincerely as Baby Zetty finished playing the piece. Baby Zetty then said, “Mister, this is the love song between my daddy and mommy.” Jay was shocked. He was surprised that someone would even use a flower from hell, the red spider lily, to symbolize love in that song. He thought that it was a bad omen.