The garden has grown into a jungle
And the flowers all dripping with blood-
And you have been turned into an animal
How muscular you are when you run-
Rotten fruit hangs from wooden limbs
The moistened bark peels from the trees-
And the clouds look like sails of ships
Men have come to us from the seas-
Your awful teeth cut at their armor
Here we sleep beside the ferns-
We chant your name, Sarah the martyr
With golden eyes these men will burn-
We are covered in the thickest of mud
Sarah, these flowers are soaked in your blood
Adding your comment: