Sage shadows slip a desperate cover

of murky, tempting tenebrosity

over the unseen truths like a lover,

praying for the untold atrocity.

Under the sullen shadows stands a gate

with duplicitous dashes of verdant vines; 

yet the heedful, omniscient orbs of fate

let no wisp of good nor bad pass the line.

Developing dynamic defenses

out of the looming need for protection,

overgrowth and shadows roused their senses

to bury Garden’s lack of perfection.

Confounding others who dare to enter,

the way to watch its secrets: a splinter.