Paradise

Love is a garden To be nurtured, cared for Weeds of doubt need to be pulled From the roots of trust The foundation of feelings So that the fruit of love, the blossoms Can flourish and create beauty Cultivated with adoration With a sunny face And showers of compliments and kisses The garden thrives and endures The storms, the droughts, the hours alone Like the resilient oaks surrounding it And grows naturally A miracle A tragedy When abandoned The garden is overgrown with weeds Seeds of lies, doubts, bitterness Eventually, without quenching words and actions The plants wither and die Small sprouts striving, searching For a drop of empathy, a glimmer of a sunrise Are instead met by dark apathy Plagued with indifference The flowers remain unnoticed Beneath the brambles Stifled and overrun By ugliness And thorns of moments past Yet the dedicated gardener Sees the hidden wonder Strives for the potential harvest Tears down the weeds Coaxes the flowers from the soil And transforms the lost garden Into paradise