The rose petals caress
the cheek
But the thorns hurt me
as I speak
The face is numb for
want of touch
The burning eyes don’t
say much
The fire in the mind
tells the truth
As the wood mourns the
charred youth
The one who warmed
their hands in the fire
Have now culminated
and I can hope to desire
A hope of perception
receives me
While the numbness in
my face deceives me
For I can’t tell the
good touch from bad
I now realise I have
always been sad
I hope I can rise and make
a turn
But they have caged my
ashes in an urn
My ashes too they want
to use
Once I'm dead I'll have
nothing to lose.
