The flower bed is growing old Replant and repress It burns away the old scars Only to welcome new ones Christened in hopes of purity To rip away security Hopeless shell passes away But leaves no hope for the newest day Dwelling Reality Aching Existence Soil drapes over welcoming eyes To shield these new visions What was once seen to be beautiful Is now dead, decayed, and gutted Wondering what happened As no reasons are brought forth Pulled from its roots for funeral Intertwined as this circle rots Dwelling Reality Aching Existence