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Secret Garden

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The vines constrict me. Their thorns bleed me slowly. I'm tied to the tree, once a promise of shelter. Sapped of it's blood, I'm naked to the sun. The hedges encircle me. We have let the weeds overrun. The seeds of love, the fruits of passion lie hollow. Love lies withered and pale. Cracked lies the playground of our life. Why did we not see the winds of change? Hate and conceit. Why did we not see the wilting flowers? Indifference and arrogance. Why did we not nourish it with the mulch of togetherness? Why did we let the tears crystallize? Light the fire. Erase all that once was cherished. Let the flames lap me. Embers singe me. Kindle them with our hate. Scatter the ashes. It was our Secret Garden.
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