We have arrived at the palace gates in the dead of night and this is where God takes us in the garden, darkness through to light. Sometimes it is as though you are in a horse drawn carriage bound for Count Dracula's castle on a moonlit night, to arrive at midnight in the garden of the heart. Roses are red there with a vial of glass, do not break my heart dear God on a moonlit night for the wolves to traipse over. Howling at the moon keeps the devil somewhere close to Dracula's castle, in the crypt where the coffins are kept for the castle's dead, who look as prosaic as when they are alive, on their stone slab, to rest their head. Some would rest covered in a coffin so the rats would not eat them, especially near fields in the country, where rats forage through the grain, they would have been after the wax in their makeup. It should not be a horror movie to know God in your heart nor wed the virgin maid on her wedded evening night, this dress would be the costume castle members would be buried in for the virginal love of God, to take them to God's garden.
