Your Garden ~ Poem by Theodora (Theo) Onken

Knee high in your thorns, i stand
The roses of long ago- wilted away
Bleeding from copious wounds, i am
Deep within your Garden Of Today;
Hurtful, dark, woeful words in granite
Pour from your mouth- most insane
In this cemetary of tombstones leaning
Is a graveyard of verbal abuses pain;
Blood and gore and all things dark & dirty
Death, and breath- a vapor- most profane
Evil's twitching out another bag of bones
As Hellfire and damnation- are truly your bane;