I hold a secret Garden,
hidden in the depths of my soul.
The Door is Bolted shut,
and few have glimpsed at it's contents.
This garden has no flowers of beauty.
There are Thorns, thistles, and weeds.
The garden is haunted by the
ghosts of my past.
The spirits want out But are Bound
by an imprisonment of feeling
The jailer of my souls garden is a
fierce captor who holds the
garden in a fist of fire
few have ventured to see inside.
But the captor has the arts of fear
I long to let you in
But pain keeps me Bound by fear
Love and trust will banish
the captor and allow you passage
shackles of pain hold me
from letting you in
The war continues
The end is near and
fate is on your side
Slowly my soul is Breaking free
