A Rose By Any Other Flower

The most present rose

Is the most important rose,

For the present rose stands tall

I find myself dreaming

Of this prest rose,

For there is a truth that unveils its beauty

What flawless love travails

When the conscience has its depth?

And truth comes in various forms

Between the petals, come what may

And I have achieved stardom

At a young age,

The rose and I.

And if you find this to be peculiar

Let the rose speak for itself...

For I vanish at the thought of losing you

Shadow for shadow, depth for depth

And the tides speak on their own

As the petals cleave

To my own generosity,

Behold...

The sparrow and the tides collide

What is upon a rose that is fair?

For a rose by any other flower

Bares its name,

Oh shallow hearts despair...what shallow presence indeed

As truth bleeds through such gentle thorns

The world sees this present rose

For what it is

And truly, most truly

I must apologize

For the most prest rose is sacred

Leave me alone in its confidence

In pressed white sheets;

A sliver of a finger

Gentle to the touch,

Have I bared my death alone?