overgrown with crystal weeds
and stalked by sentient vines
the house therein has no windows
and a door no one can find

one day perhaps I’ll stay there
to gather up the rotting spears
of warriors lost who came searching
and were defeated by their fears

their bones and their glowing armor
i’ll cast beyond the sooted walls
into the metal-salt marshes
where their dead-eyed children crawl

one day, perhaps, but not just now
what is marred will not be mended
while the world burns blind and unchecked
my garden grows untended