Current mood:	cynical
Current music:	Epiphany - Staind

:: Through The Garden ::
And so we crumble as the Gardener steps over the weeds. Crushing flowers as he walks the pathway. Twitching as thorns rip through the bare soles of his feet.

"Why are you hurting me?"

The Gardener calls out to the flowers. They weep behind tall grass hoping to be seen. Weeds mock tears and stand proud, knowing they will survive another attack.

The thorns answer.

"You punish us, you punish them, you punish all. Can you not tell the difference between a rose and a dandelion anymore?"

The Gardener weeps. He rushes past the colors and petals to the bench across from the pathway. He sits with his hands over has face. Falling tears seep through the crevices of his palms, they land on the ground in front of his feet.

"All I want is to be known. To be seen the way I used to be seen."

The soil is saturated with blood. The tears morph into puddles that would drown a seedling.

The Gardener looks up to see his once beautiful garden is bare. No flowers. No water. Nothing.

He stands. He searches for something. A root. A petal. A fading scent of rose.

Only silence. He holds himself up alone.

The garden has faded.