My garden is where I sleep .
It's scent and the sun notish me .
I walk on its lawn and its damp .
I feel secure of the cold .
How could they find my gate ?
They conquer my love .
How could they see that I am weak ?
My sentinel is dead .
My fallen garden is sleeping .
My fallen garden I am weeping .
When dawn breaks , and life ends ,
he awakes to life .
When moonlight caresses ,
my flowers wilt ,
then he awakes and burns it down ,
over fields of beauty .
Then Ihear the neigh
of a dying horse