I’m plucking away the petals Of a rose named me. They’re falling to the floor, But the floors aflame. So, did they burn, Or am I insane.
Sanity is that my question? Well it’s a far cry From what I claim to have.
I’m ripping out the pages Of book known as me. Catching the breeze, But they’re landing in a brook. So, did they melt, Or was that the foundations that shook.
Oh, we’re talking stability! Now I know we’ve switched subjects, Because that’s just not me.
I’m tearing down the walls Of a citadel called me. The masonry it trying, But this storm isn’t through. So, was it worth it, Or should it they have quit too?
Determination, that’s the key. I think we may after all Be talking of me.