I crave the rose that never fades
In my wild mischievous eyes;
Petals that never fold or crease
nor lose lustre from their hue
Although that fragrant bloom remains
Beyond my reach in distant lands...no thorn
Could ever pierce so deep
To bleed the passion from these lips
Cut these hands, but not this heart...
That bleeds with sole and strong desire
Within the rampant tangle
Of a wild unruly briar
