In my garden.

In the early morning, I see you go.
Gone with a smile, your love it shows.
I never got to thank you, but I still know,
I’m always welcome, in your heart, your mind your soul.

In my garden, of blood red roses, I think of you and my heart doesn't feel so cold.
In my hand, a wilted rose provides, a slight torn of pain, ripping at my sides,
I’m longing for you.

I never felt the wound, which my blood seeps through.
I never noticed that single breath of hate, from other people, lying right past my gate.
I’m never deep in fear, of the demons that are always near,
When I’m with you.

In my garden, I can feel you there, intertwined, with the cold and deadening air.
In my mercy, you’ll always linger, past my roses, of temptation, I’ll see you there.