The Rose's Dreams
No day is just a daydream, and every night is just a nightmare.
The Rose in the Underworld no longer had will.
Live out her life? She did not dare.
How could she live,
When the Jackal hurts her so much?
How could she bear
The feel of a man's touch?
How could she survive alone,
Without a home, without a friend, without a face to say hello to?
And yet, when the city goes to bed,
And she looks back at the life she once knew,
Then she can find some small peace, and live inside her head.
At long last, the day came when she could gleefully say
That she had not lived until today.
The Rose had met a Dreamer,
And oh, how she loved him!
No longer alone, no longer banished like Cain.
The pavement now shone like sliver,
And all the lights grew misty in the river.
Or, at least, that was how it looked in the rain.
But when she gave to him her damaged heart,
He gave his own to a Lark.
She laughed in scorn of herself, and imagined herself standing in her place.
Would he have looked that way at her, then?
And seen the soul behind the sad face?
No. He wouldn't have.
Yet to her the nights were now clear,
Not cold and empty like before.
Still she wanted to have him near,
To be treated like a lady and not a whore.
Oh yes; that was what she wanted. That was all.
Because if the nights had ever been so clear until now,
She could not recall.
How sadly she wished for him to stay in her dreams,
For everything to become better than it seemed.
Every night is different, but still the same.
She sees his face
Yearning for his withheld grace.
It's just a fantasy,
But let it be.
Let this Rose be youthful,
Let this Rose be free.
Never let her dreams fail and fly,
Never let her say goodbye.