I open my eyes, a dream wearing thin
your perfumed breath settled into my skin
I follow your path, to your voice I’m sworn
a grasping hand that’s been struck by your thorn

you plucked me away in twinkling night air
unweaving a shattering love undeclared
no root could hold on, no voice would remain
so I myself turn, and drift now away

there is no return to roads left behind
just a dew glistened path-the pull of time
no crown, no grave, no prayer left to free me
here lies a rose which no king would envy