Symbolic Suffering

Foolish soul

Life is a garden you grew.

You left the weeds and took what bloomed to make a bouquet for the lover waiting outside the gate.

When he had left, he never came back.

Your garden was empty except for a few weeds that you forgot to exhume before you took all the roses and sunflowers that had bloomed.

When the next lover jumped over the barrier, he had nothing to take, yet he left the garden like an empty slate. He even licked the plate.

There were no longer trees or weeds. The grass was empty, and the dirt was showing through the crevices you couldn't hide.

When you thought he had taken it all, he removed the gate. He slaughtered the grass and threw away the dirt, the groundwork you built under you. What held you together for as long as you could remember thrown out before you could even snap a picture of what your life consisted of.

There was no permanence in his presences and neither was there any life. His garden was dead and rotten. His flowers never bloomed, only slowly withered away. His grass was grey, and the trees never swayed in the warm wind going against him. He kept you in his garden as a statue or a warning.

Then he killed you off with just two words.

"It's over."

The picture he framed was of a gargoyle haunting the lawn warding off any other victimless souls who happened to wander too far.