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Tear of a Rose
Tear of a rose; dew drop in the rain,
wilting and falling; pedals fall as pain,
red turns to black; as decay sets in
holding all the hurt; all the pain of sin,
whisper of the wind; leaf fluttering in grass,
blowing off far away; to its final destination last,
leaf turns to crumbles; as time takes its tole,
releasing all the anger; all the hatred of the soul,
Hatred grows and grows as a filtered ear sets through,
forcing all the pain and hurt to settle and subdue,
flames rise tall and burn in sync,
sitting in the hatred of this silent stink,
Forced to grieve but filled with hate,
for the demon approaching to his late,
a devil rises inside the mind,
to force out sorrow, to force it into bind,
Yet a tear of a rose falling as rain,
and i whisper of wind flowing away,
stop the mosnter from growing tall,
and erasing everything, erasing it all,
a hope a glimer the cool shade makes,
for future hopefull rainfall shakes,
for vines intangled within to make one,
for flowers to bloom in a new lit sun,
the nature of time it makes the world,
to force on hope, for embrace to unfurl,
to create a time anew of happiness and glee,
to set two souls belonging, free.
 William Saint Claire · Wed Nov 26, 2008 @ 08:21am · 0 Comments |
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