Crying red rose;
Life's written in prose;
Everything is in chaos;
Throes of dreams that shows.

The sun rises;
The stars surprises;
Evening's glowing light;
Gardenias growing right.

Wondering around, oblivious of my dream;
Sleeping so tight, that no one could make me scream.
Heathers everywhere;
Black rhododendrons nowhere.
I might be stuck in my dream,
For it is a sweet dream.
I might not see any gleam,
For this will be my last, it seems.