The flower bed is growing old
Replant and repress
It burns away the old scars
Only to welcome new ones
Christened in hopes of purity
To rip away security
Hopeless shell passes away
But leaves no hope for the newest day

Dwelling
Reality
Aching
Existence

Soil drapes over welcoming eyes
To shield these new visions
What was once seen to be beautiful
Is now dead, decayed, and gutted
Wondering what happened
As no reasons are brought forth
Pulled from its roots for funeral
Intertwined as this circle rots

Dwelling
Reality
Aching
Existence