There’s no rose in the winter.
The snow has buried her stem.
The ice has broken her petals.
The frosted flower won’t bloom again.

The gentlest of flowers
are constantly trampled
under heavy boots

He stroked
the air
where she
might have
been.

  ~mce

She wrote his name
Amongst the stars
So heaven would know
She had found hin

I seeketh to be that blood that drips from her pores,
I seeketh to be the sweat that clings to her..

For amour'

Close your eyes
the Sea is waiting.

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.