The Garden

Walking through this dying garden,

I can’t help but wonder how I ended up here.

Not so long ago, it was spring,

And then it was happiness,

I think.

I feel the mud on my bare feet,

Blades of grass between my toes

And bugs, many bugs,

So many of them,

Crawling everywhere.

The moon was just out,

But clouds took her hostage

And I cannot pay the ransom,

Good-bye moon, good-bye light,

I’ll pretend to enjoy my darkness bath

And I will laugh out loud to scare away

The spirits roaming in this here place.

If I wait long enough,

Maybe the sun will come out,

But maybe it won’t and then it will

All be the same, day in and day out,

Nigh after night,

The same howls and the same tears

Falling down my cheeks and feeding

The dying plants by my feet.

Soon, I will join them,

The dying and the in-pain,

The miserable and the lost.

But first, I need to keep walking

Through this muddy garden full of hell.