Roses and Thorns

Flowers flower, bloom

My sour source today is you

I pick roses by stem of bristles

Prickling my finger, love bond blood, know no wither

Fall winter, enclosed in glass from frost

Fields fill with Tulips and Daisies, Violets and Peonies

Each a symbol of spring up north

But you my rose I hold like torch, let go?

No.

My heart has tried, Bless my soul

Entangled too far beneath to row

Reckless insanity, Rage ablaze

Love of one who built this cage

Alas return where thou bound

To you my rose, blood to hound