Parable of the Garden

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The Beloved Coven

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88 souls started as one
Blossomed and bloomed saving itself from the harsh desert sun

Feeling exposed, it grew its own shade
From flower to garden
From garden to glade

It's hard to forgive, for us and for you, but sometimes the only way out is through

But, of all else above
You'd want us to love

The many became an army of One
Defending itself from the harm that was done
Never alone, soldiers-in-arms
When enemies charge, we sound the alarms

All of the hurt makes it harder to love when the hurtfulness comes from the ones that You love

Love endures all, surviving all wounds
This battle royale can end when we choose

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