Poisonous embrace in a garden’s darkened glade,
Where shadows twisted and wove,
While a serpent’s hiss slithered like a whispered kiss beneath the autumn’s rove.
Among the blooms, so mysterious and colourful, a secret lay concealed,
Like a venom so pure, in innocent petals’ core, whose true intent was never to be revealed.
Flowers of darkness, with their colours vibrant and sweet scents, lured the trustful hearts,
Although their veins were sources of a toxic strain of deadly spite and lust.
The touch was so delicate, the caress like sunshine.
Nevertheless, threat lay within,
A fatal bite, a brisk delight, a kiss of death’s cruel grin.
A fatal lingering in the garden’s heart, behind the ornate gate.
Wanderers of wild greens sought the garden’s charm, enchanted by beauty’s glow,
Oblivious, they strolled through the path where the poison’s roots did prosper.
They plucked the flowers whose scent made them unconscious of their fate.
The sun would die, the moon would arise, and clouds would become more bold,
In the wicked night’s grasp, the garden’s face shifted from amiable to insensitive,
For those ghouls who lingered spasmodically under the spell of the venom, the night offered no respite from their torment.
The poisonous embrace turned into a love that vanished into bitter ashes like a burnt dream in the darkest despair.
Through concealed secrets, enigmas of sorrow reached every futile heart that met death.
Legends of defeated lovers and trust betrayed were like a poison descending from the sky.
Magnificent flowers, once so full of life, were now symbols of deceit and destruction,
Their decay was a reminder of the hidden collapse beneath their beauty.
Years departed, the garden’s tale, just a legend to be remembered.
Delusions masked in vanity’s guise turned hearts into hard and cold stones.
The blooms still flourished, the fragrances sweet, yet none ever dared tread that soil,
For each leaf contained a toxic grief, a lethal truth.
The fantastic tale of blossoms’ fair allure,
Unveiled a bloom where toxic doom endured—
A fate that’s dark, impure.
In every leaf, a tale of grief, a story of despair,
A poisonous embrace awaited those who wandered there.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
