We pray in the garden,
For peace to take the ache away.
We pray in the garden,
For the light of God,
To guide us to better days.
We pray in the garden,
Guardian sanctum of our hope.

Rainy days are about as good as any,
It's a little gray and dreary,
But I love the sound of trickling drops.

She does too,

I love the rain,
When I'm with you.

O
that if I could,
I would:

Hide the moon
and the sun
in my fists.

No more lights
in nights.
No more rays
in days.

Why should the world
remain alight
when my soul
and heart
are drowned in dark?

I don’t want to remember the sweetest days—
not your smile, not your warmth.

I want to hold onto the days you hurt me,
the silence, the absence, the sharp edges of your words.
I want to hate you,
just enough to walk away without looking back.

But nothing is working.
Not hate, not forgetting.
Not even pretending.

Because deep down,
I know I never showed you—
not enough—
how much I loved you
in those days.

And now,
it’s terrible
to carry these feelings forward,
to move on with my heart still rooted
in yesterday’s soil.

I want to remember the bad days,
the cold,
the pain,
the distance—
anything but the way you loved me once.
Anything but the way
I fell.

Let me remember the pain, not the love.
Let me remember the hurt, not how deeply I loved you.
Because that’s what I need to survive this.

When the dusky husky twilight descends,
I think of who I am.

Each night my opinion changes,

Sometimes I'm a shiny white suit,
Elegance.

Often though,
I'm a lumpy sack of coal,
A big burden,
Such a terrible person/thing.

But I think for now I've decided,
I'm okay.
Nothing special,
A warm summer day,
Something normal,
You treasure anyways.

Those multitudel inglorious days,
With eager tounge and fearless youth.
Indignant in our stubborn ways,
We fought the system nail and tooth.

Unreliance on mechanical wears,
Or self compliance bitter taught.
We sought the path that wanted wear,
A princely sum yet still we bought.

Sheer confidence in ones esteem,
But pride will always take a fall.
Those days rush by me like a stream,
Too fast to catch or yet recall.

Immortal reason warmed our bones,
We chased the sun and caught its rays.
Auspicious notions now outgrown,
Of early bird inglorious days.

The sun is setting,
On another windy day,

Cold and brittle,
Perfect for a *** roast!
We'd take to the grill,

But the weather had other plans.

Thankful for every passing cloud,

They reflect the sun so well.

I should've counted the days
When you were here 
Now I count every second
That you're not here

Free inside the room allowed to lock
However such pleasures bring traps
Becoming isolated and forgetful
Not in the sense of the small things
Rather going shopping and forgetting the list
-
Had to make do with memory
Remembering the vegetables was easy
The miscellaneous items were fruitless
Just had to eyeball the aisles  
Keep my head down in case spotted by someone familiarly unpleasant  
-
A pretty girl from school worked at the shop
Wanted to see if she was still as beautiful
However that made me nervous
Why couldn’t everything be like the vegetables?
Made my way to checkout
-
Headed home with heavy bags
Trying to be careful as to not crush anything
Which reminded me with a pang
Forgot to buy the ****** eggs!
Mood soured as that was my breakfast
Too late to head back that would be embarrassing
What if the girl saw me and made for an entirely avoidable kerfuffle
-
Now awkwardly thinking what to have for breakfast
Arrived just outside my doorstep
The next door neighbour to the left was just leaving
How unfortunate and horrific
We asked each other how we were and conversely felt quite pleasant
Vented about my eggs fiasco which was met with love
My neighbour went inside and bought out a chicken