From Garden To Throne

For years, I walked through my garden of excuses, beautifully laid out, symmetrical and abundant. The tapestry of seduction and deceit, fertile ground for my field of illusions, with new growth ripening, under the constant warmth of the gliding sun. Blissfully, I tended that site, accessible to no one, ritually, I covered my tracks, and gave nothing back. Until the weather changed. My labyrinth garden, my identity came under siege, the wind and the rain washed it all away, exposing the broken bedrock below. My barren soul, rootless and drained, drifted into dark shadows without a trace. Freedom claimed me, Illuminated me, called me home. My watery eyes and fragile, pounding heart became my throne.