The road goes ever on and on...
Rose trances the traveler with her
redolence...
Aura drives the creature to hover
upon...
But the peach has thorns coated
with innocence...
It stings if one seeks to own
them..
To have in possession a dried up
divinity...
Hence let it bloom and enthrall
senses in this mayhem...
Killing the gloom of cobblestones
with unmatched dexterity...
Dew upon the petals...
Blood upon the stings...
The fact that a dawn can be
someone's dusk,
Is natures mystic siring...
But these are the splashes of
rain...
That refresh the brain...
And these thorns with there
majestic beauty stay upon...
Till the road goes on and on...