I woke up, in a place I don't understand,
it's cold, I'm so cold,
a snowy dessert, I feel numb,
I just want the cold to go away.
I seek shelter, in a nearby forest,
tall trees, thick intertwined leaves,
I walk through it, with no fixed path,
the cold is unbearable, I can't stand it.
As I keep walking inside,
everything becomes so black,
I can barely see, but,
in the horizon, a faint light,
I run towards it.
It is a garden, so tidy and neat,
it seems well cared,
full of white roses,
and impossible crimson violets,
I step in, uninvited, I feel a trespasser,
the stony floor hurts my feet,
a sliver of light, caresses my face.
Among the flowers,
there is a spot, that seems so out of place,
there is nothingness there, my eyes trick me,
I can't make up what it is.
A faint infernal, but yet soothing noise,
calls for my attention,
I raise my gaze,
there are figures,
white as paper,
lidless and lipless,
smiling at me, some of them giggle.
At first I don't recognize any of them,
but then they become familiar faces,
they all point in unison at that patch of dirt,
that is something and nothing,
I know what I have to do now.
I pick up a white rose,
it smells of life, and sanity,
I grab it by its stem,
the thorns pierce my hand,
it hurts, I love how it makes me bleed.
I raise my hand over the weird spot,
and the floor starts to form,
as my blood flows,
an impossible crimson violet appears,
my hands are white now,
the cold is gone,