When an angel kissed a garden

A bright light was exposed

The garden flourished deeply, with a darkly colored rose

When a human found the garden, and looked upon the rose

They thought how pretty . . . picked it . . . pricked their finger as they closed upon the darkly colored rose

As a blood drop fell unto a leaf, the garden had awoke

And scorned the human, it’s anger deepening, for picking their only rose

Slowly it began to wilt, and the angel cried above

For human blood had tainted and they themselves had killed

The poor once living garden brought to life once with a kiss