the gardenthe gardenabandonedin the gardenbattle's armourintofinal wardeath or life?thereto drip dropupon the cold andimmovable stonesin the hourof shadowsthe light and the darknessstood stilla duo-choiceone tortured willnew lights of thedawningwere seenby those tear-filledeyesso sadly wiseangels appeargiving growthclothed with relieving sighsthey realize. . . in white . . .'I'a manalonewithoutwill be beatenspit upon andbroken apartfor the cropsI had come tonourishsonow they're herenot to be nearescapingin embracementlie by me andmournin this gardenall has died