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