Dying Garden

Flowers dying in the garden.
Silent hearts still seeking pardon
for the many wrongs that they beheld.
Seeking peace within the wishing well.
Sinking deep in misery.
Searching for the way it used to be.
Time never really tells the truth, you know.
It eggs them on into a tizzy.
Frantically enchanted by the sound
of all the same old hours passing round.
And round and round they go again.
Another day. The sun still spins.
They orbit yet another galaxy.
Cosmic wisdom thrown in garbage heaps.
At the heart of their emotive fantasies.
Fear lashing out. The pain endures.
Their clarity becomes a blur
of speeding bullets racing for a mark.
They moan and groan within the sleepless dark.
Heavy clouds that hover on horizons
lined with light still wished but never real.
The painful points are all that they can feel.
Like flowers dying in the garden.
Silent hearts still seeking pardon
for the many wrongs that they beheld...

? Michaelette ?

10/30/2005
Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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