Gilded light travels through moving green,
as a solitary rose blossoms in sharpness.
Dead cover ground, where roots meet soil,
and a jaded cry echoes through disparate times.

Rainwater leaks from dejected clouds
to whet the appetite of parched terrain.
A howl is performed with gusto aplenty,
and the dead are forced to move with alacrity.

The unsociable rose, contented in life,
perched proudly between embittered enemies.
Emblazons the thought of a life less ordinary,
for he alludes his presence as only royalty would.