A bed of roses

selling my thimbles and trinkets i know my way. my mind is heavy my body cant hold still. at the end of the day what do i have?
a pocket full of hope and the cloths I'm wearing...what else could i ask for. at the end of the day when i'm cold and weak i will rest my head on the grass next to a bed of roses, feeling the fingers of earth drag me under i cant resist their grasp. pulling and dragging sucking me under i want to hold back but i cant. falling through i feel the warm arms of my moonlit lover. standing far from me she calls to me. i reach with the last little bit of strength i have back to the surface, fingers tickling the roots tied to roses they loosen and fall into my withering hands. together once again we embrace as the sun that has come to warm the earth from above. giving her the flowers i know my way.
we were such good friends, i need to know what happened. after she left my heart started to slowly fade, in and out with every beat like a blinking light sinking in the ocean. she asks of the pleasures i endured after she had gone. the only memory i have is the one we are making now. and still i know my way.
when the night is over and my head awakens from its warm slumber. the blood rushes back to warm my feet as i stand to see that the night has fooled me once again revealing images of the woman i once loved. i turn to see the bed of flowers empty, and still i know my way.