A Pessimistic View On the Subject Of Gardening

I’ll give an explanation later . . .

The Garden

 There in the midst of beauty sought

The voices of faceless strangers and weary creatures

Bend and mold and stagger with helplessness

Drowned in charity and loved in regret

Oh the blinding! Oh my drunkenness!

Comfort the desolate serenade the despaired

And leave me with my own devices

These selfish desires that leave me wounded

Abandoned from the sweet kiss of time

Oh season of autumn how you bleed into winter

How your children sing with the freezing waters

There is no peace there is no sense of anything

Only the howling of sirens and cursed ambition

For the silent sing songs to only dream

And their hearts riddled with passion

Their minds rot with hope to see the sun

Their faith left dying in the twilight

For they swear there is beauty in a garden

They swear there is hope beyond the horizon

But monsters bear monsters and there is only burning

The memories forgotten become violent storms

The waters take the shape of isolation

And where is home when the silence is drowned?

Where is heaven in the darkest of skies?

And where is freedom in the confines of chains?

For I know the sorrows of old

Her gloom the unwanted shadow

The bastard child of light and decay

And before me lies the beauty of desperate want

Dying helplessly in the gardens they grew

. . . actually I don’t feel like giving an explanation but believe me it’s not meant to be “pessimistic” in anyway and should be more liberating than anything. Paradoxical I know with the image of “beauty dying”, but “beauty” in this poem should be read as more of an antithesis to joy or love as opposed to a product. That’s all I’m going to say but I hope that helped and remember someone somewhere loves you.

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