The being in the Garden

Poetry
Original Short story (a vague puzzle)
PG

In the long forgotten garden,
Hidden from the eye of men,
Rested beauty of the old world,
That was there until the “end”.

Leaves of trees had subtly covered
Entry to the sacred land.
Yet something inside impovered –
One obnoxious crazy man.

He was one like that –
The odd one.
Maverick of own darn kind.

Seeking for them life long answers
Stumbled he upon the den.
Screeched and shouted old pine dummies –
Crows that guard the entry there.

The blooming sight of endless roses –
The scent that misted head.
His breath abrupt,
His steps unsteady – he left.

That single really strange endeavor
Lead to the waking of the “old”.
The garden shook as being gathered
Her mood.

The silence hung above the land.
The silly man had fought the bad.
Young ones had suffered,
Old had bled out…

She paced slowly through.

With head high,
With hands on sides,
What she’d do,
What she’d might –

It could be end or new dawn,
But unfortunately – not now.
She found trespasser –
Tore his heart out.

The silly search for purpose had lead him to the doubt.
His worries to the lies,
The murder and muffled cries.
She had to end the suffer of that foul soul.

The war that rummaged land if now at haul.
Her steps taking her back to garden,
The birds flocking and singing at her side.
Another silly men-made dawdle – is not.

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