King Of Roses

From peasants
To people
To power
I stood by your side
Not knowing the future
But having forgotten the past
I trekked forward unto the brink
Of my own sanity
There I found my solace
In my mental solitude
The city of flowers
It's walls calling out to me
Made of the finest lillies
I climbed the thorny vines
Only to find empty spaces
And blurry faces
There I crowned myself
"The King of Roses"
My crown made of only the most beautiful of the bloody plants
I was master of none
But to some
I was strong
My thorny crown kept me rooted in my own being
A wealth of knowledge known only to the most heartbroken
There on the brink of my sanity
In the city of flowers
The king of roses bled from his crown
Down into his eyes
Creating faces for his blurry subjects
He sat there rooted
To himself
On his throne
Master of none
But to some
He was strong.