Two troubles past the midnight noon
When a black, blind sun scares off the moon,
Put all you’ve got into a teary-eyed tune
And let the darkness harden.
Then dig in with a stained-glass spoon,
Dig and dig through night half-strewn
With doubts and fears and hateful wounds
That only lead to ruin.
You’ll come to the Twisturn Garden.
Every wish that’s been forgotten
Grows on good ideas gone rotten
Watered with the worst ill-gotten
Gains that greed has ever brought-in.
However bad you just might be,
In a world too good for you and me,
You’re always welcome here.
You may find the payment queer,
But must pluck and plant a plum eyelash
For a garden’s only what it grows
And what you’ve got will give a splash
Of lively color most sincere.
What comes of you will grow in rows.
Illustrated by Bukkehorn