"The Children of Paradise"

You know, I've always found something fascinating about the gesture of offering a flower. It's as if, in reality, we're offering a fragment of ephemeral life. A life that we've cut, destined to vanish. It's a kind of paradox, don't you think? Offering something so morbid, yet so beautiful at the same time.

I mean, just think about it for a moment. When you offer a flower, you're literally giving a part of that plant that was alive, growing, thriving in our beautiful garden. And now, it's here, in our hands, detached from its source of life, yet still as magnificent, as poetic.

It's as if we're reapers of life, but reapers who recognize the beauty even in the act of death. It's a dark thought, I know. But at the same time, there's something profoundly alive in cherishing ephemeral beauty, in displaying it, in preserving it in its most perfect state, even if it means watching it slowly wither and fade away.

It's as if, through this flower, we remind ourselves of the fragility of our own existence. But instead of succumbing to pessimism, we choose to celebrate this fragility, to embrace it, to cherish it. Because even though our life is fleeting, even though all that is beautiful is destined to fade one day, there's something deeply comforting in knowing that we've witnessed this beauty, even if only for a moment.

And perhaps, just perhaps, that's where the true essence of our paradise lies, in this ability to find beauty even in the ephemeral, to cherish every moment, however fleeting. And in this act of offering a flower, we remind ourselves that even in death, there is beauty. And perhaps that's what ultimately makes our queen and our garden so magnificent.

We are the flowers of our queen, Soma. And that... is truly the most beautiful gift the world could offer us. So yes, the harvest is necessary."