Rose Garden

Written by: laszlo kecsedi

There`s a rose garden I planted - unpractical fancy,
I spend my days there lost, bemused and enchanted
Such beauty nurtured and grown is meant to be given
Lest the garden becomes a holding cell, a prison

I was told love tears down barriers and breaks through walls
But the roses keep growing, and no one answers my calls
The garden walls are high and strong; I`ve had enough,
My gardening tools onto the ground silently drop

The red on the roses suddenly seems like dried blood
The earth that gave life to such wonder is just mud
Roses, torture me no more with your splendor
I`m no more your defender, to my bitterness I surrender

The garden`s neglected, flowers and weeds grow wild
The fruit of this love is only thorns and this bastard child
Such beauty nurtured and grown was meant to be given
But the garden became a holding cell, a prison