I am Venus and I keep a garden built on order.
Roses climbing walls Rome learned to trust.
I hide gold apples under myrtle hedges.
Pomegranate seeds beneath the dust.
I'm the mother of an empire, not a storm.
I'm the trellis chaos learns to climb on.
Don't mistake my structure for cold distance.
It's the shape that lets the passion carry on.

April comes to me for careful pruning.
Every wild branch, I give it somewhere to grow.
You think that order kills the wanting?
A fence just means the wanting learns to flow
Somewhere useful, somewhere lasting, somewhere chosen.
I built a garden out of chaos, patient, true.
So passion had a place to actually happen,
Instead of scattering before it's through.

Golden apples roll through empty hallways.
Marble cracks where ivy finally wins.
Every myth becomes a kind of practice.
Tradition finding room for what begins.
My gardens bloomed in strict formation.
Row by careful row of red and gold.
Order, it turns out, isn't the opposite
Of everything that's wild, uncontrolled.

Bloom. Bloom slowly.
Garden walls are melting into synthesizer.
Marble turning slowly into water.
Order holds. Even chaos, colder.
Rose petals spinning in slow golden circles.
I built the illusion just to hold us still
Gently, while we learned to lose our reason.

I am Venus, and the choir blooms behind the garden gateway.
Horns and harmony where marble stood.
Every rose I pruned becomes a hallway
Leading somewhere lasting, somewhere good.
I was never cold. I was a builder.
Making room for chaos to belong.
Love with architecture, love with order.
Love that holds you steady, holds you strong.

Bloom a little slower. Spring is patient.
I'm tending gardens you can't always see.
I am architecture, love, and promise.
Strong enough to hold you and be free.