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O my garden that I must hide from all,

I have betrayed thee, thrown thee down a well,

Sold thine secrets to be at Pharaoh’s call;

My grim heart’s famine is a well-earned Hell.

O secret garden, my heart’s silent prison,

In the labyrinth of my mind hidden

Away from the illuminating sun,

Stashed in the drawer of thoughts forbidden.

Secret garden where endlessly I roam,

Endlessly and forever more alone,

Thou art a star upon some sacred dome,

And I, a penitent in prayer unshown.

Secret garden that I must hide from all,

Thou holds the apple awaiting my fall.

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This entry was posted in Sonnets.

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