a rose is just a rose
the clock ticks, days are nights, and dreams are real.
the room is changing, the windows are expanding, a door is open.
the face ahead knows my heart, eyes that look inside.
it knows no one like your self, within it, you are whole.
face uncertainty, you shall not, for you now know who you are.
that is the dream that rides with it, safe in the heart of soul.
the hands hold no barriers, fingers open, and stretched wide.
reaching for nothing, for the want soflty subsides.
and the open bucket, full to retain, drains back into you.
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