Symphony of the Blue Roses

In the depths of my imagination
mystics do grow
they are blooms of a fantastical world
now tell me:
is there a reason
why
these dreams do not exist?

Oh blue roses,
on each petal hangs one of my hopes,
If you can be imagined
can you be created, can you be found?

Oh blue roses,
are you merely a fantasy,
a silly product of far too many daydreams?
Why is it that I cannot climb your stalks?

Each day,
I exhaust my strength,
I exhaust my mind,
I attempt to give life to my dreams,

I want nothing more than to see your petals,
soft and milky,
I want to see them whispering in the wind
whispering a sweet melody,
a melody of life, of love, of labor,
a melody of my world

I want to immerse myself in the symphony of the blue roses.

and so,
Each day,
I exhaust my strength,
I exhaust my mind,
I attempt to give life to my dreams,
and I'll be damned if I ever stop.