The Botanist
Based on an amazing dream I had.Another World.
I was a healer. They called me the Botanist.
A dying world under parasitic attack.
A great infection by way of astral projecting along internet networks;
A bio-chemical infection under the master manipulation of an evil man.
A Thing of science and powerful magic.
I call him a Thing. For he was not worthy of the same caste as humanity;
a being more cruel and inhumane I cannot bring to mind.
An existence more Demon than Man.
I would give you his name but I never knew it.
And I didn't care for finding out.
I remember the sanctuary before the world fell apart.
A place of beauty beyond my ability to describe.
A part of me fought and survived for so long out of a burning desire to see it flower again.
But the cold, hard, logical rest of me knew I never would.
Our world was not dying.
No matter what light and good I fought to protect.
No matter what we did.
It was already...
Long dead.
****
I was a healer. They called me the Botanist.
A great infection by way of astral projecting along internet networks;
A bio-chemical infection under the master manipulation of an evil man.
A Thing of science and powerful magic.
I call him a Thing. For he was not worthy of the same caste as humanity;
a being more cruel and inhumane I cannot bring to mind.
I would give you his name but I never knew it.
And I didn't care for finding out.
I remember the sanctuary before the world fell apart.
A place of beauty beyond my ability to describe.
A part of me fought and survived for so long out of a burning desire to see it flower again.
But the cold, hard, logical rest of me knew I never would.
Our world was not dying.
No matter what light and good I fought to protect.
No matter what we did.
It was already...
****
The sanctuary was beautiful once.
Before the End Began.
Although you don't usually capitalize the word;
I do so here.
I do so here.
For this was THE End.
The End of all things.
The End of all things.
I remember flowers.
One of the few alive who still do.
Before the infection took them from me.
Before he took it all from me.
Before my children were infected by that
THING and its Bio-chemical program.
The Infected plants were bad enough.
The worst of it by far was the people.
Before my children were infected by that
THING and its Bio-chemical program.
The Infected plants were bad enough.
The worst of it by far was the people.
It collected them.
Infecting them slowly,
Piece by piece.
Rotting and turning them bit by bit,
Whispering in their ears as he takes their mind.
Slowly driving them mad as they die.
I tried to save them.
I failed.
Time and time again.
I failed.
The world ended.
I failed.
They all died around me.
Allies. Friends.
Infected one by one.
I failed.
The world had ended. The dark had won.
But I would never let that thing see me despair.
That would be my One.
My only.
Small victory.
Or so I thought, the day I died.
My only.
Small victory.
Or so I thought, the day I died.
But I was wrong.
Thank God, I was wrong...
The Pilgrim.
I never knew his name.
I didn't care to know.
He was dying.
His body riddled with infection inside and out.
We never asked names.
Not when everyone you knew was so like to be killed at any moment.
I had never seen a soul last so long under infection.
And the fool used to say he was weak!
We both knew he was doomed.
His body and organs were falling apart.
I never knew how the fool could smile so brightly every god damn day.
But there you have it.
That he could still walk and function was nothing short of a miracle.
He was beyond dying.
Like the world he tried to protect.
He was already dead.
But again.
I was wrong.
I remember one last, sad, thought;
As I died, my body burning in holy fire.
Pilgrim.
I wish I had learned your name...
*********
When Flames Die
The Sanctuary fell.
One of the last strongholds of the free world.
Pilgrim fled to the refuge that had become known as Haven City.
I never knew his name.
I didn't care to know.
He was dying.
His body riddled with infection inside and out.
We never asked names.
Not when everyone you knew was so like to be killed at any moment.
I had never seen a soul last so long under infection.
And the fool used to say he was weak!
We both knew he was doomed.
His body and organs were falling apart.
I never knew how the fool could smile so brightly every god damn day.
But there you have it.
That he could still walk and function was nothing short of a miracle.
He was beyond dying.
Like the world he tried to protect.
He was already dead.
But again.
I was wrong.
I remember one last, sad, thought;
As I died, my body burning in holy fire.
Pilgrim.
I wish I had learned your name...
*********
When Flames Die
The Sanctuary fell.
One of the last strongholds of the free world.
Pilgrim fled to the refuge that had become known as Haven City.
I Stayed.
I was infected.
I would soon be dead.
And a part of me knew.
Had known, for far too long...
The longer I lived,
His greatest foe,
It would never end.
I purified my body in Holy fire.
I died knowing all was lost.
I died knowing I would never see my flowers;
My children again.
The darkness had won.
I have no words for the joy I feel;
Knowing I was wrong.
********
Survivor
Pilgrim they call me.
Pilgrim they call me.
But I once went by the name David.
The Botanist died when the sanctuary was attacked.
I saw it.
She killed herself.
Purified her own body.
Right there in front of me.
But I saw what it did to him too.
And the resulting and profound effect it would have on our world.
He gave up.
I saw it in his eyes;
His greatest foe had escaped beyond his reach.
And the fight just left him.
A part of him forever knowing he would never be satisfied with any other battle.
He played the part. For whose benefit we never found out. Maybe a part of him refused to accept the fight was over.
From the sanctuary he massed his infected to take Haven.
And when they threatened to take down his precious networks;
Something that could not have happened while the botanist lived as they were the only means of attack or defense against the virus.
He came quietly.
He played the part. For whose benefit we never found out. Maybe a part of him refused to accept the fight was over.
From the sanctuary he massed his infected to take Haven.
And when they threatened to take down his precious networks;
Something that could not have happened while the botanist lived as they were the only means of attack or defense against the virus.
He came quietly.
He had planned for this of course.
He could have escaped.
But once in the prison. Cut off from his networks.
Impotent without power.
He grew quiet. He grew old.
And he died.
And, miraculously;
On the brink of absolute destruction.
Our world began to heal.
I'm still infected.
'I should be dead', the doctors say.
People have said that to me a thousand times over.
And yet, somehow.
I Survive.
I have a story I must tell here.
And a lot of flowers to plant.
She would have liked that...
****
Her Name
I have no doubt she saved us all.
Had he never known such a foe he would never have lost his fire for destruction.
And we would all be dead.
And we would all be dead.
She always blamed herself for the despicable things he did to the people around her in the name of war and vengeance.
I hope with all my heart. Wherever she walks now.
She knows she died saving us all.
.
And that no matter the flowers I fill this world with.
It will always be empty without her.
And that no matter the flowers I fill this world with.
It will always be empty without her.
Botanist.
I wish I had asked your name...
I wish I had asked your name...
Afraid of losing you,
I never knew how painful not knowing was.
I never knew how painful not knowing was.
Now that you're gone...
****
****
