What continues to grow. (part 2)

Little Miss Black Rose woke to find herself in a plant pot
She tried to remember just how she had got there…
But her memory was absent and gone were her cares
In the plant pot she lived now, in a happy contented daze,

Her roots sucked up water and nourished her well
She did not want for anything in the whole entire world,
Birds flew over high and amused her with their flare
What had her life been, before this complete utter bliss?

But what she soon noticed was the relentless weak sickness
It tainted her blood stream and spread to her limbs,
Her roots continued to suck - but pulled up dark poison
Perhaps plant life was not what she thought…

Weeds grew up, surrounding her petite form
She could not move an inch, back or forth if she tried
And try as she might, chained to the bottom
She was being pulled down, into her eternal prison.