You showered me with attention so abundantly, I thought that’s just what your climate was.
So on you, I lay down my roots and began working on flourishing a whole ecosystem
And when that was complete, and you had grown tired of all the scents and all the flowers that depended on your rain to survive
You decided to take your clouds elsewhere
These days, I know your climate is really just scorching heat and droughts. Perfect for the original desert that I was. All the showers of attention were just superficial, manmade, unsustainable lies.
And now your attention is rarer than moisture in a desert.
What kind of God were you trying to play by making me flourish, just to watch it all become another graveyard in your name?
With no life after death
And no life after you.