Nature Hates the Dark Lord

Nature Hates the Dark Lord
A garden, that's what he decided.  Finding a term or verse to describe this decided garden was much harder though. Flowers were neither over flourishing nor were they wilting or drooping. The same could be said for the trees, the bees, the birds, or the bushes.
Nothing ostentatious but nothing neglected.
Not like such things mattered; the man never had skill in poetry. What he lacked in lyrical writing, he made up for in magic. Oh, what magical abilities he possessed with pride that accompanied. A single bolt from his staff could decimate kingdoms and its denizens.  Rome may have not been built in a single day but burned in a single, spectacular night; the flame made quite the mood-setting campfire.  
The very staff in question was in fact ominously floating between a rhododendron bush and its dark wizard master. The black smoke emitting from the ends was just a special feature along with the singing of a thousand damned souls in agony.
But this was not a day for overrunning good kings or smiting terrified peasants. Oh no! Today was for relaxation and rejuvenation. Nowhere better could better offer healing then a Zen garden such as this. Delicate water features dotted the area, merrily trickling dainty streams of water down to the crystal clean pools below.  Water so crystalline that it only magnified the shimmering gold and silver scales of the koi and minnows mellowing to and fro.
The dark lord discarded his black iron boots to the side, wiggling all ten of his hairy toes before plunging them into the water. Droplets of water spattered around, the fish fled from the offending appendages that emitted such pungent scents.
Several fish sore on their mother's watery grave that the hue of the water turned just a shade browner.
However, curiosity got the better of the fishes, the gold and silver koi and minnows taking turns nibbling at the wiggling toes of the dark lord. It was a rather tickly sensation; pleasantly light and calming one at that.
Finally a day to relax and unwind.
Clad in armor that reflected shadows rather than light and the steely gaze that bore holes through iron itself, the Dark Lord found harmony. Dainty butterflies fluttered to and fro from daisy to rhododendron then smitten when it floated much to close the staff of a thousand souls in agony.  Stems of blossoming flowers stretched languidly towards the sun but tripped over their own two roots and fell with a withering wave. Gay chirpings of birds was nowhere to be heard, but of no matter! The music vibrating from his staff was just enough to sooth the Dark Lord.
Absolute perfect harmony; if only it could last just a little longer.