A Rose Bound
In the labyrinth there’s a castle,
where a bed of roses lie,
thick and bright and color-strewn,
arching turrets to the sky.
I see you there, in my sleeping mind,
a shadow in the brightest light,
cloaked in crimson, rich as blood,
beckoning me in from coming night.
Come to me, come to me,
your voice echoes low on the wind,
come to me, come to me,
to our story now, we must tend.
Come to me, run to me,
gasping, my heart begins to pound,
come to me, find love with me,
become the rose to which I’m bound.