Monsters be gone

My secret garden is no longer dead The grass is green roses red The darkness no longer crawls through my veins Breath no longer clawing up my lungs Feeling content, relaxed Almost Problems come, the monsters accompany. They rest on my shoulders, whispering sins into my ear. Despite destroying everything they touch, I let them roam. They cause earthquakes and floods, my friends can not stand the disasters. Each time they knock at the door, it gets harder to decline. They leave occasionally, letting me relax. I no longer rely on people to control my life. The right path still lies ahead. So I'll pick up my weapons, prepare for the dread.