Like A Child In A Garden Poem by Gert Strydom

Lord, can I not like a child
in a garden loose my way,
away from the melancholy and fear
finding something wonderful
in every thing around me

or am I still blinded as a human being
in the distress that I read
when destiny strikes around me
and so half orphaned
know that life at a time
even destroys the greatest beauty?

Or are we only delivered to the dark night
that folds around us against our will
as if this only exists in thoughts
while we do not really know what is waiting,
and are still trying to cling to life
while we are continuously destroyed cell upon cell?