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Life is a strange swirl,
Dark red roses
Buried in your soul.
I look out and hide,
Sunlight the cold intruder,
The mix of fantasy and future,
Caught up in the whim,
Of a man.

You convinced yourself
No, this is not what I want.
No, I do not want to care.
No, I do not like this feeling
Of want.

Blood red roses you see in my eyes.
Darkness without depth,
You seem to feel in my core.
Am I capable of Love?
Am I malcontent with Love?
These are the things you say,
These are the things you ask,
As a man.

How do I convince you?
Yes, this is what you want.
Yes, this is what you care for.
Yes, I am the feeling,
Of want.

The swirl of the rhythm of life
Mixes its purity in the dirt,
Where the deep colored roses,
Strike out their hue of red.
There's not much intrigue in hope,
No hidden secrets agendas,
Just the opening and closing of a heart
Trusting the man.

Life is a strange swirl

Caught up in splendors

Caught up in wonder

Caught up in the whim

Of a man.