The green lost it's red willow tree to gaze upon.
The thorns of the rose served no more purpose.
Stuck in their own cage they call home.
They see a light.
They follow the light.
Following the light that tempts them.
The trail of promises and happiness lead them outside.
The green gaze becomes dull.
The rose's thorns falls off.
And they were to never come home.
R o s e t h o r n a n d G r e e n g a z e h a v e l e f t.
Art/Greengaze+Rosethorn (c) Me