A rose that shines with morning dew
A piece of me that shines for you.
A spark of sweet electricity under the pale moonlight,
A right to feel for you as I desire.
A sense that wraps my heart with soothing fire.
In my outstretched hand there sit’s a bird.
He flits between the oaken groves.
As free as the place that love abodes.
In the other palm a broken crown.
Gems that turn to dust and sand.
Like a forgotten love on outstretched hand.
Upon my cheek there streaks a tear.
A cry out from my soul.
A firefly of emotion. “make me whole”
A butterfly rests on the rose in the fog.
A minute intruder in the calm.
Now he rests aside the bird on my palm.
A ray of light breaks through the meadow.
And it breaks in through my pain,
There’s nothing to be afraid of here. Where I can love again.
Sat here under the broken, leafless tree.
I feel it all slipping away
I shouldn’t feel that way, not today.
So I sit there and I serenade the dead.
Things long gone into the night,
Things for which next time I’ll fight.
And now I stand in the ruined church between the arch.
The ravens caw in the belfry.
Its like a calling to me.
And there she stood at the alter, clad head to toe in white.
The gaps in the walls were filled
As she smiled to me, smiled like purity distilled.
Sometimes at the most unlikely of times there is a happy ending…