My bare feet were feeling the icy coldness of the crushed snow under my heated skin as I strolled down the narrow, endless path through enormous, burgundy colored roses, which stood proudly tall, looking as if they could easily intimidate anyone who'd dare pass by them. Weightless snowflakes floating around me, some of them lay on my skin with such gentleness as if they were afraid they could sting me. I smile, embracing everything before my eyes. Drowsy silence is being taken over by a sound of melting icicles dripping feverishly, soon replaced by another grave sound of a piano. These sounds seep through my frozen veins as they seem to fight each other with scorching hatred, but not for too long, as pure love brings them together and dance in peaceful harmony, leaving the anger behind.
As if enchanted, my numb feet dragged me through the cold snow and arrow-headed thorns of roses, bringing me closer to the charming song of the playing piano. Hissing as those thorns leave neat scratches on my skin, making me aware of their threatening beauty, I see a slightly - built manly figure creating those beautiful sounds. I can see how his well-hidden memories within his soul are becoming one piano masterpiece. Beside him stands a long-winged owl, its dark brown eyes staring deeply into mine. Those big, round, dark brown, piercing eyes give me an odd sensation. It feels as if my inner side is being crowded by anxiety, fear of the unknown, curiosity and cautiousness. Confusion was flowing through me as the song had stopped before I realised.
The man is now standing right before my eyes, his icy blue eyes staring into mine. There is no need for words when it could be felt flying around us. An unseen bubble of bewildering feelings embraces us, as it brings us even closer to each other. I could feel my once cold heart melting, the stone-hard ice becoming soon the scorching fire. His eyes were the windows towards his soul. The reflection of each memory he had, could be seen.
I understand now. The fear of the unknown, the anxiety. It has all become clear. Love is just like a burgundy rose.