His garden where daisies grow

I saw his garden where daisies grow.
He lost me behind that wicket,
Just feelin' that flowers are stale and raw...
I got my fatous ticket.

I saw his bushes of roses inside
That garden, so full of hopes, and
I was about to choose to invite
M'passion to be like constant...

The garden is nice but strange to admire:
The dahlias look like devils.
He used to extinguish the hottest fire
But still in m'soul it glares.

Peonies grow but under the ground
Many dead bodies lie.
What can I do? I hear awful sound...
Silly of me. But I cry...

Screamin' and scared I sit on the grass but
Happens just nothing at all.
Oh! How I wanna somebody pass by.
All of them savor my soul.

Fatal... Existance is really fatal.
With or without him...
This is the end. The grinding of metal
Makes me create m'last scream...


Рецензии
A good piece of poetry, Joana!!!

Especially, I would like to point out last strophe after having read one I recalled the picture “The Scream” which is by the way on the background of my work computer.

“Fatal... ExistAnce is really fatal.” – a perfect conclusion to your lyric (please change typo to “existEnce”). The whole piece is up to the point and self-explanatory.

Mikhail

Михаил Хитрик   18.09.2006 18:10     Заявить о нарушении
Thanks a lot. I am glad to see the appreciation of this piece of m'soul.
I'll correct...
Best regards, JO

Асия Верникова   18.09.2006 22:57   Заявить о нарушении
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