A Surreal Peace...

A Surreal Peace

In a bed full of roses, orchids and palms,

There is a surreal peace that is captured,

A second of distress is relieved,

And she can only hear the beat of her own heart,

Amongst the fumes of the flowers,

And the scents of the undergrowth beneath her.

There are voices that want to be heard,

But she can only hear her own,

Only her whispers and sighs are caught in her mind,

And no one can tell her she is dying,

Wasting away into the night;

Lying with her flowers, her fauna, her foliage,

And only if she would listen to her heart,

Perhaps those scents would stay,

Perhaps those fumes wouldn’t fade.

And if she would realize her fate,

She might be able to stop her restless destiny,

And capture a moment,

An innocence, a memory.

Though in her bed full of roses, orchids and palms,

She has more faith than she has ever had,

A belief as strong as it’s ever been,

And a heart as brilliant as it e’er could be.

So before she tells him goodbye,

She might only wish to stay inside that scent,

And feed herself and her soul on that fauna,

Capturing all of its innocence and illusion,

And die at peace with herself and the world around her.

Perhaps this is the safest way to take a life,

Though perhaps it is the holiest,

To go in your own time and space,

In a place where the magic of life is at its strongest,

And where she finds the enchantment of her own heart.

Perhaps it is there in a bed of roses, orchids, and palms,

That she finds the most peace;

And in that moment when her fate completely takes over her,

She will know that those whispers she heard herself say,

And those scents she first knew,

Were the things that overtook her,

And she will know that a surreal peace was truly captured.