Trapped in the solitary confinement of my soul
Silently screaming in fear that death would conquer, but who would know
Uprooted from my life source, can I survive this drought?
Placing myself in the faceless, colorless cavern of doubt
Captive to circumstance, bound with ribbons of patience, held in the vastness of time
Turned and returned, tampered and broken, leaving memories to haunt the mind
So who that will let them come, though the journey seem futile and in vain, to this hold fast
For the reward remains, flowing from the deepest crimson red, wounded by the past
And if opened, it would burst forth as a raging tide and the softest of tears
That cannot be stopped.
For it is my love,
Like a rose in a box