Please read. This poem is one of my happier note ones. Written with all my heart put into it.

I sit in my little garden

My colorful garden of dreams

My painting of peace and harmony

The sky is filled with the pastels of purple and pinks

The autumn colors of red and orange

The finally never-ending blue.

My heart is filled with joy

My eyes are filled with wonder

I have created this world of happiness and glory

With the help of God.

Suddenly, I am over taken

Over taken by a fire

I see a chariot streak across the sky

A black cloaked figure

He reaps across the sky things my pretty little garden has never felt

My world has never endured

He brings forth pain, anger, and hatred.

My flowers die

My dreams falter

The colors begin to melt away into white

My little world

Is something it has never been

It's black.

The tear in the sky from the reaper's scythe breaks my heart

Rains flood through the breach

The black blurs my vision

Along with my tears

As my beautiful garden

My beautiful world

Becomes a drab shade of gray

I sob

I cry out

The little world I had created

Has lost its color

I smell the pungent smell of blood

It is mine

I feel my blood and color drain from my body.

All of my heart, my soul, my mind

Was placed into this world

And now, it all was for nothing

I close my eyes and wait for the reaper to come

Come on his green horsed drawn chariot

His scythe can tear through me

Though there isn't much to tear through.

Your time is not over yet

You must continue

A voice so soft but so clear calls through to me

Breaking through the mist that has shrouded my brain

I can't

I can't go on like this

I cry out passionately

Why can't you understand?!

I am your best friend.

The friend who waits for you at your darkest times

But you never see me

I will give you a gift so you can go on

The voice reassures calmly

I force my eyes open.

I am back in my world

The beauty the peace

It's all here

How can I thank you?

I must give you something in return

I call out to no one in particular

Your love and happiness is enough as well as your gratitude.

What is your name?

You may call me friend, little one.

With the breath of life

The whisper of wind I can tell it's gone.

"Friend" has gone with the wind.

Thank you, "Friend"

I am back

Back in the garden

Where angels roam and where dreams and wishes come true.

End

Another interesting poem with a whole lot of inspiration. Please review.