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--
January 15th, 2026
by Safa Shariff
I built us a garden.
With my own hands I pressed seeds into soil,
watered them with devotion,
and bent beneath the sun of your smile.
Love rose like vines,
roses opened their crimson mouths,
lilies whispered in pale white tongues.
I thought, This is holy ground.
Nothing unclean can enter here.
But beneath the roots, something stirred.
The soil shifted.
Scales gleamed in shadows.
A snake lived there
not one I planted,
but one you fed.
When I wasn't watching,
you left it morsels
half-truths,
sweet words soaked in venom,
a kiss that tasted of another.
Its hiss was soft as rustling leaves
I mistook its gleam for dew.
Even when roses wilted at the edges,
I blamed the season, not your silence.
But the day came when it struck.
Fangs tore through the bloom of my trust.
And you,
you stood still,
as if you were only a guest in this Eden,
as if this place had not been built from the breaking of my spine,
the kneeling of my knees in wet earth,
the sacrifice of my sleep.
The snake swelled with your offerings.
In its eyes I saw every lie you carried like prayers.
My garden was no longer ours.
It had become a graveyard disguised with petals.
So I burned it.
Every rose, every vine, every lily.
Flames roared like truth,
devouring what my love had made.
If you heard me scream that night,
know it was not grief alone,
but rage
a vow that nothing with fangs
will ever nest in me again.
And yet
in dreams I still walk barefoot through ashes,
smelling roses that no longer exist.
For what is a garden,
if not a place where beauty and danger
are always entwined?
About the Poet
Safa Shariff resides in Devangere, Karnataka, India.
Read the poet's biography and Wax Poetry and Art publications
on Safa Shariff's Artist Page.
This poem is also featured in Comet #7, published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Keywords: betrayal, poetic rage, snake, garden
Previously published in India Poetry Magazine:
Grave of Light
by Ravi Kumar Karn
India Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
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