A saw a pencil marking on a wall inside a glass, a rose to open, light to blend, on lead it was to cast. It sailed around a circle and swept upon it's feet, forever more it had in store to be a part to see. Pencil drawings never dreamt that made a story real, so long ago a heart was broke, a world, a dream, a tale. Dusty, broken petals took a breezy ride, whirling, curling, petals, love's sweet scent of time. Two circles kept it's mystery, as light shown through the top, two circles, eyes with sadness cried, you're the one i sought. The dust then broke the silence, my feet moved in so I could feel, the picture of a broken heart that calmly seemed surreal. Breath of life, crucified, a soul draped deep in pain, a time of fear swept deep and pored, out eyes as sparkled rain. My fingertip was then to put an imprint in his heart, I ran it down a waterfall, a picture began to start. Lead confined a paper, brought about a sight, a smile, such a picture with arms open wide. A man of light began to rise and wipe away his tears, the waterfall began to fade, dryness closed the fear. A stroke from my own finger, opened up a story put to sleep, but now I see the rose, no dust, love was all it seeked. I shook the glass, a pain filled mask, had died and brought some snow, it sprinkled down and circled round and light began to grow. I put the other glass away, and kept the one I'd found, I gazed down at the drawing that I created now.
