There is a garden in the middle of a field,
fenced and protected,
where overgrowth creeps up like so much disease.
It covers the barrier, creating another wall and another disease.
This wall must not be broken down for this green garden, with its red center,
is a heart for a world.

A gate stands as portal into a plain, littered with tombstones-
like garbage--and decay runs rampant like so much freedom.
Give a dog a bone, learn to live alone.
Give a dog a home, learn to live learn to live.
This green garden with its red center is overshadowed by an electric sky.
Blue voltage sweeps across the currents and arteries of the wind-waves,
carrying messages through the liquid air.
Strike the stone, learn to live alone.

A message falters, the center fades.
Thump. Thump.
There's beating on the walls,
fists raining down like so many arrows that can blot out the charcoal sun.
Thump. Thump.
Intensity increases, noise grows louder.
The center fades.
The beatings stop.
The fence, so much like a barrier, falters.
It sways, loosened from the ground it's stood in for oh, so long. The overgrowth,
reminiscent of so much disease,
holds it fast in tandem with the litter and the rubble.

Thump. Thump.
The center fades.