My garden is where I sleep . It's scent and the sun notish me . I walk on its lawn and its damp . I feel secure of the cold . How could they find my gate ? They conquer my love . How could they see that I am weak ? My sentinel is dead . My fallen garden is sleeping . My fallen garden I am weeping . When dawn breaks , and life ends , he awakes to life . When moonlight caresses , my flowers wilt , then he awakes and burns it down , over fields of beauty . Then Ihear the neigh of a dying horse