The Garden of Love
Love is a garden whose bounty feeds us well
But if it is not tended can be a living hell
This garden cannot prosper thru the efforts just of one
No two must labor jointly for sharing of the fun
Not time, distance, nor strife of life its power can they blight
However should one or the other fail it produces endless night
Love is a garden whose bounty feeds us well
But if it is not tended can be a living hell
The darkness in which we blunder is as a freezing rain
Through our lack of effort we feel the depths of pain
When we say the word of love we hear a muted bell
When we view our field of love our garden is not well
Love is a garden whose bounty feeds us well
But if it is not tended can be a living hell
Thunder of our moments echo loudly through our years
The garden that did sustain us is watered by our tears
How did it get so broken and strangled by the briars?
Maybe in our private moment we whispered words of liars
Love is a garden whose bounty can feed us well
But if it is not tended turns to living hell.
We’re burning…We are burning… We’re burning… We are burning.
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