Cased within thee

A single silver gilt rose

Thorns upon delicate greens, the slender stem of beauty transcends

Layers of lavender, fragility, strength, and beauty

The beauty of a thousand years, within and about, encased upon thee

This single solitary stem, encased, the beauty of etched glass all about, the gold and silver gilt edgework

Frozen in time, as though nothing has changed, nor is about to be changed

Frozen, yes frozen, to thee, so as no human hand may touch so

No human, no feeling, no warmth of a breadth, may see, touch, nor feel

Laying upon the snow white satin, we see the delicate fragility within, and the depth of the thorns

So cold, so close, the eyes upon thee yet not able to touch

A generation of faces about and yet still no connection

We speak, and we say we are still sleeping

Sleeping beauty, not yet has awakened

The beauty, the ice, the untouchable

His lips has yet to touch

His hand has yet to caress

The rose is yet to awaken

But soon, it shall be

It shall arise, as a thousand suns, may from upon the etched case of thee