A garden hidden from the world,
Where shadows weep.
Each flower holds a delicate secret,
Were whispers run deep.
A place where each secret, sows a different seed,
Locked down beneath the ground,
Where nature buries it's greed.
Red, blue, green and orange,
Each shade tells a different story.
A story hidden from the surface world,
Burning inside it's own glory.
It is not a garden but a sacred place,
A place that nurtures and listens to you.
Holding deepest secrets from coming out,
Whilst the flowers pray for you.