With an outside so unreasonably repellent

that inspires rebarbative alarm in all,

the Garden solemnly sat

forgotten, forlorn, and forsaken.

The woes within remained the only tenant.

Undecided on whether this state of mind—

state of solitude, state of thought, state of life—

tampered Garden’s pending growth,

the Sun continued its sacrosanct setting.

And the issues remained undefined.

Undefined, unknown, unexplored—

the weeds of life twisted within those slighted pickets,

and without puissant succor,

virulent vines delved deeper.

This battle—Garden can no longer afford.

Longing to be once again dependent,

hoping to be free of this barrier bind,

the lonesome garden and gate wait to be restored.