Doing what the yellow square says is best way to go places.

On a day of hollow hours, one single rose blossomed facing the northen breeze.
The cold of a blood shaped star.
Is this introduction, perhaps tells more than could polite calculation.
Neither I or mine to come.
The air is set as clouds drift, earth goes round no matter this.
As life speaks for itself without a voice, the need is felt to voice life, alas it steeps far deep from expectation of conducting the other to the heights experienced.
Truth may not be told by this lackluster meaningless tongue.
Although, hope is held up bright.

R.