I looked about the forsaken world;

each to his own,

lost in the thoughts,

walking down the dark dreary road,

with darkened heart

amongst darkened souls

searching, groping, probing, never-finding.

I looked about the forsaken world

with despair in my heart,

and a soul torn apart,

at the sights I have seen

and the places I have been

looking for answers

to the questions unasked

searching, groping, probing, never-finding.

I looked about the forsaken world;

the abandoned dwellings

with deserted dreams

the lifeless gardens and the now-silent streams.

The ghost beyond, moan and strain

to look at what we have made

of the world they knew

and the place in which they grew

searching, groping, probing, never-finding.

I looked about the forsaken world;

the deserted fields

where farmers once toiled

were barren now

leaving the land in turmoil.

But wait, do me my eyes deceive?

For amidst the hopeless despair

amidst the ground beyond repair

a budding rose stood proud and tall:

steadfast and ready to survive

all the evil that may befall;

for its luscious flesh swayed in the breeze

its musk spreading

hope and ease

that all may not be lost

that despair is just the cost

of finding at your deepest core

the primitive instinct that we once bore.

For when the winds became too strong

we bend until we almost broke

yet storms subside and we survive

for like the sun we can still rise

searching, groping, hoping ever-finding:

love.