Hidden Glory of the Mist so Sweet and Those Who Wrap Themselves Therein

Among the briers there lives a rose,

Beneath the brush, where nobody knows.

Creeping critters cross by without seeing,

Deeply hid, this rose simply enjoys being.

Each season passes and the petals fall,

First one by one, then they were all...

Gone away.

Hardly in the wind to even sway.

Instead of a funeral there was nothing

Just lifelessness, in the distance, river rushing.

Kaleidoscope of hope leading to far away ocean,

Loving the melodic sound like healing potion.

Most never saw, or knew the life that lived,

Not many could fathom the body that writhed,

On gentle, vicious waters gone by,

Passing mountainous shadows that all began to sigh.

Quickly floating, floating,

Rose petals like that, going boating.

Submitting to society's ebbing steer,

Thinking, drinking up the last of the atmosphere

Unsophisticated, never taking much of a stand,

Vulnerably bland,

Wonderfully wild, while...

"X" marked the spot of the very vile,

Youthful ending where...

Zealous hearts give up their last care.