the pond

The Pond

Stones of grey, camouflaged with the dark of dawn. Invisible to lazy eyes, that see nothing, but no eyes go near this pond. Hidden by trees, and vines greedy for space the pond sleeps. In the garden of the rich, but the area of the forgotten, the pond weeps. It sits in its deep valley, leaves fall from the twisting trees. Its water green with algae, is undesirable to even the lowest of ducks . Slight winds would pass to say hello, but only leave a storm of crispy leaves. In its lonely sorrow the pond had forgotten about the world, lost all care for humans. When first built over three-hundred years ago, the pond was the center of the garden. It saw parties, gatherings, lovers, and friends, but it was soon forgotten and left to rot. As time passed