Ode to a Garden

Ode to a Garden, how beautiful everything grows, moisten by the morning dew, slowly kissed by the sun and caressed by the morning air. Be witness to the beauty of a melanated rose with pedals blessed with the deepest of reds and dressed in the sharpest of thorns. She is something all yarn to pluck and uproot while those who see her worth continue to water her with love. Understanding that it would be a privilege to even mistakenly draw blood by. Those who hold her tight, aroused by the pain and greeted by lust relish in all her glory while never truly understanding her pain.

Stagnate by the unkept earth beneath her she still manages to move while life crumbles at her feet. Scared by the flames, a pedal burnt to ash, the garden now void of life the devoted use their tears to replenish her, and are eager to do so, willing to lay down their lives if it meant that she could fly to highest of heavens to kiss the hand of a god knowing that it would be her own. Breathing life back into her only to be paid with her presence.