Rose chronicles

Visions

Rose chronicles
I smell the salt air, it stays in my hair
like memories that cling to my head
I'm walking on lines of all that reminds
I'm hanging on like beads on a thread

Far far
These visions are

My shallow desire that screams in a fire
Is burning out from embers to dust
The flowers and streams that glow in my dreams
Are nurturing the seeds of lust

Far far
These visions are

Cherub flies with a dove her wings carrying love
A sharp wind blown descending her fall
Windblown bodies will flail get all caught in my sail
Above a sea of comfort for all

Far far
These visions are

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