Garden of shadows

Welcome to the garden,
lost somewhere in time,
a world of faceless, nameless fears,
for those who cannot weep.

Where jagged shards of broken glass,
are raining down like snowflakes,
in a field of waving, dancing poppies,
a turbulent blood-red sea.

Pale grey skies and thunderclaps,
rolling high above you,
as lightning splits the trembling air,
a tree engulfed in flames.

Concrete thoughts and simple truths,
slipping through your fingers,
like butterfly wings of coloured silk,
fraying at the edges.

Come lay your wearied head to rest,
on a bed of silver ashes,
in specks of flickered candle light,
where shadows come to play.