A blade of love and wrath

An open palace of closed doors

A twisting, painful path

Through my garden of metaphors

A hand promising salvation

Fingers crafted of unyielding stone

The face of my ruination

Carved in my garden of broken bones

A brazier of arctic fire

Words tinged with the burn of deception

A circle of honest liars

In my garden of contradictions

A shower of decaying flowers

Forests of growing death

The restriction of reality towers

Outside my garden of bated breath

Poison collecting in pools

Wings encompassing the sky

I have long since broken the rules

Of my garden of lullabies

Shattered glass lining pathways

Velvet moss growing with a gleam

Reconciliations with old heartbreaks

In my garden of unrealized dreams

There is no sunset in this golden land

No evening on these recovering shores

Your darkness won’t grace the white sand

In my refuge, my garden of metaphors