it's not really poetry but it's pretty he said as he raises his voice she lowers her head it make my heart heavy you're lonely I think oh rose your're sad I suppose Look in her bed and she's bound to be sleeping she's lying there dead no she's breathing furious rose with your opiate eyes your languorous hum that tone of surprise I've heard energy in adversity your smile the soul of witchery you're not running away you're not running are you lyrically longing she's tearing the words from the page she's fearfully seething bring me your blessings a prayer or a new pen you don't know what I need look in my bed and I'm bound to be sleeping I'm lying there dead but I'm breathing and I'm barely balancing as it is and I don't want to drown in my dreams bring me wild plums and agrimony I bet you don't even no what that means furious rose with your opiate eyes and your languorous hum that tone of surprise I've heard the energy in adversity your smile the soul of witchery you're not running away you're not running are you you're not running away you're not running you're not running away you're not running are you gingerly peering over his shoulder removed herself from the room she's terribly freezing she always knows when to go