dead Garden

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Living and breathing in the presence of the one whom ripped out your soul and enjoyed it.

Submitted: December 29, 2011

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Submitted: December 29, 2011

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Our love lies in a garden of asphodel.

I wonder, will you ever know my pain?

No. I am sure you know not,

I have it buried so that no eye may ever see.

See; ...See the heartache I bloom in death?

No. I am sure you see not,

You are as blinded now as you ever will be.

Feel;...Feel the garden so dead beneath your feet?

No. I am sure you feel not.

Just as every leaf or pedal you've trampled on with such a calloused heel.

Hear;...Hear the mourning of a lonely souls' forsaken flower?

No. I am sure you hear not.

Such cries shall never penetrate your cruel deaf ear.


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