Buried in the garden of Old
are your soul and mine,
lain together
for all of time…
Twisted hands that reach for yours,
even in Death.
Rotted heart calling to you,
forever bound in your metaphorical net.
In this garden that memories have long forgot;
within this grave both age and elements weathering,
my decaying brain is still filled with you,
as you are the only thing worth remembering.
Pink camellia and daisy stretch from I to you..
Even Nature longs for us, my only.
When neither of us remain, the earth will remember, the people will know..
Love grew here intertwined with Doom, never close to lonely.
