deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Garden
I walk through the garden, where the tombstones grow.
Grow not in size, but in number.
Where dead lay beneath, in endless slumber.
When this garden will be my home, I do not know.
In this garden, one day I'll live.
And to this garden, my body I'll give.
I will sleep in the garden, where the tombstones grow.
Grow not in size, but in number.
Where dead lay beneath, in endless slumber.
When this garden will be my home, I do not know.
In this garden, one day I'll live.
And to this garden, my body I'll give.
I will sleep in the garden, where the tombstones grow.
Published 7th Dec 2012
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7th Dec 2012 9:16pm
I love this poem it's beautiful. And thanks for adding my poem to your reading list.
7th Dec 2012 9:46pm
