The Garden

Won't you bring all the flowers you find out in the garden
Don't tell me the truth...that your heart has hardened

But you don't want me anymore
How can it be?
Look what you've done to me

The bee does quickly sting
I was wondering, if you could maybe, darling, think?
I'd give everything if you'd grant my love a pardon
And all the fruits again would fill the garden

But you don't want me anymore
How can it be?
Look what you've done to me


By Mirah

Nothing Much

These days I'm feeling nothing,
Neither joy nor melancholy
A calm numbness has taken over
and it suits me just the same.
I wont fight it, or try to right it
Just let the current drift me out
Whats the use in resisting ...
when the shore is all washed out?

Naivete

There aren't enough pretty words that can paint this picture perfect.
What lies underneath comes often to the surface,
Its a decrepit face kept hidden to keep up the facade of youth
Back when I was green and the world was full of hidden jewels
Now I've seen what becomes of those who break the rules
They suffer a punishment so stiff, after which they have nothing to lose
Looted, ruined by thieves playing a handsome ruse
With empty heart and hand, I mourn
My tears could soak the desert green
but they don't have the ability to revive me
They can't make me believe after all I've seen
No one dips their cup in a polluted stream

Failure

About this wretchedness I have few words
Few words deep enough, descriptive enough
Not enough to depict this loathsome affliction
Affliction of my dereliction
Dereliction of duty, honour, faith