In the garden laid thy mother,
And thy father rested besides her.
Adorned by the grass of thy Earth,
Of branches and fruits, thee Garden's truth.
In Orchids they lived and fated forever,
'Till the vines moved and fate flowed along.
And a voice ringed near and whispered close
From depths spake to the married folks.
But vines has no mouth
And to the winds they talked,
A trespassed home
No longer a safe house.