The Gardener of Mankind

Ruminations maundered by a brittle soul:

“There is an entity that is yearned and found,

Never does it seek, yet it is always found:

Realm where Men stay forever drowned!”

Dank, dark – even the soft wind was distraught

Shuddering aloud: “what is your tale of despair?”

“Hark! Hark this melody of gentle despair”

And her weary eyes did mine ensnare.

“Its arcane calls you not, yet utters death:

Wherever you wander, wherever you flee,

There it will stand and there it will be,

Still it will linger when you cease to be.

Stifled breath, whispers of rash dismay

Evoked on the chilly clod: there forever bound;

Enticed on the desolated, dampened ground;

There the Gardener of Mankind can be found.

Treacherous and stern this hollow thief:

Hushing - but leaving a whispering grief;

Dreaded burden, this hollow grief!

Has it no greed to bribe, no heartbeats to hear?

Dark Garden where lament’s echoes falls,

And all the sickly light grinningly forestalls

Grinding to dust all yours joyous calls;

This, the Garden of abysmal sleep.”

Thorn and tricked, forlorn and weak!

“Dragged and drained by foul screams

No wreaking thunder to shut the screams

Have I drifted away from fathom dreams?”

He came to me one morning, one calm, sunny morning,

Plucked the fruit ripened by the fertile ground,

Smiling happily with the gift he found

Taking it into his sacred fire to be crowned.

Descrying the transmundane

To hear the cry of a wandering shade,
That gently sighed and called for aid
From a fissure of space and time –
Oh soul from sere and unwonted clime:
No need to wander, no need to weep
In this eerie, unfathomable deep.

To breathe the chasms’ warp and weft,
Until there’s no fabric of yours left:
Did parched demons so bestow,
Or is this the Heavens blow?
Being awake or being asleep
In this eerie, unfathomable deep?

To discern not the myriad of threads,
While severe gloom soundly spreads –
And sneak past all of the fears,
Hearing the shades’ helpless tears –
And hustling more with every tear it made:
Gentle shade, here I come! I come as aid!

To reach the shade and its mortal pain
And whisper: “Let us return, let us return
Smiling, and woeless to the mortal plane!”
Oh poor shade you could not discern
Steep life were you ought to weep
From a hellish, unfathomable deep...