Rose in a Box

 

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