Is this a dream, I'm stepping out of reality it seems. Prepping for the inevitable fall, why take that chance and answer that call. Why don't I fear this dance, the sound of this song I don't know. Newly found hope, dare I believe and let grow? Can A Fallin Rose finally be picked up off the floor? What would happen to it? Could it re-root or is it about to be thrown in the sea from the shore? The uncertainty abound, yet still hope and faith are being re-found.
Don't drop this rose if you pick it up, but beware of its thorns so sharp. It's been picked and then cut, thrown in the fire, petals show wear and tear. Still, it lives, even after being kicked across the floor. Safer to let it be, then to drop it in the sea. Another loss it has survived, but now the points refined and so sharp, almost out of spite, it's thrived. You must be equal in gentle patience and might, are you that kind of real? The risk is a permanent bond you'll seal, complicated but a treasure is this deal.
I wish you luck in your quest, but this rose is a great test. Do your best and never lie, remember everything about you it can feel. An empath by nature, every petal can heal, if your the right one to reveal.