What Haunts the Lily Garden, And the Secrets Known Only To God, And the Moon

So I wrote this a good year ago after watching a television show I cannot recall. After a few people read it they asked me why'd I'd write about people dying so much? My answer was always, just because someone dies in my stories or poems doesn't mean it's a sad event. Sure you should morn the person/character who passed on, but for the most part in my writing something deeper happens than just someone dying. And I feel that this poem is a perfect example of that.

What Haunts the Lily Garden, And the Secrets Known Only To God, And the Moon

The typewriter sat in the corner collecting dust
As the phantom,
Well the phantom was left hopelessly in love
Dust collected on piles of pages he wrote
Memories of a past life, of his one true love
Blue was the color of choice and prayer was necessary
He once spoke,
"What is your favorite flower? Cause if you promised to love me. I'd promise to leave one on your pillow before you come to bed."
He grew her flowers, and they both kept their promise
His love knelt in the lily garden one day,
She looked up to the heavens and cried out,
"Silly children we were! Fate has no meaning, and God please protect me."
"I let go of all the stars in my sky. I flooded the sun so it wouldn't burn brighter than my love for him."
"And still you... You felt you had to remove the one I loved from this world."

The phantom came to his love's bed as she slept

"Love... I'm always here for you. May the lily garden give you peace."
"You are my heart, and I won’t step a foot into heaven, or any bright tunnels of light."





"Not until you're good and ready to join me as I do hand in hand."


"Oh, and Darling take your time. Smell your lily I lay out for you."

The phantom smiled and walked to the desk in the corner of the room.
He looked out the window, closed his eyes, and prayed...

"Let me stay, and please God never tempt me with the offer of another home."
He blew the dust from the typewriter,


And began a poem,

One of what would be many, all for her...