Hoarse are the birds in this garden
Coarse are the feathers they wear
Strange are the songs that they’re singing
Songs that tell strangers “beware”

Deep in the shadows lies Beauty
Long overgrown by thick vines
Lying in silence she’s staring
At naught but the passing of time.

Footsteps are scarce in this garden
Scattered with leaves as it is
Darkness has snatched it from Beauty
Her once cherished garden is his

Crying in silence lies Beauty
Watching her poor garden rot
If it lies only in darkness
Her toil will soon be forgot

Soft sang the birds in this garden
Bright were the feathers they wore
Sweet were the songs they were singing
But now there is Beauty no more