My doom

My Doom will reach me soon, As fast as that flower bloomed.

We'll meet in hell, With a story to tell.

Of that flower of mine, That I met in confine.

There was no beauty as such, Although forbidden to touch.

It lied hidden in a cave, Waiting for someone to take.

Who would've thought that my crave, Would give me grave.

I ended in the heart of a cell, In the lands of a barren hell.

And that is my story to tell, For those that lie in this cell.