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precious rose
blood drips from your precious rose
the rose of a promise mad long ago
the softness of her delicate petals
the darkness of her beauty you chose
she stained your hands with her love
from the moment you tore her from the ground
and carried her into the world above.
so loyal, she wiats in her crystal case
so patient for you
fragile as ever, bleeding her color; losing her love
nourish her with your blood
for nothing as beautiful could ever take her place
chrimson petals wither away to the floor
her beauty so delicate
her beauty, no more
Love turns to hate, and peace to war, with only the slightest of disturbances. If the majority of mankind cannot help but destroy even the sweetest of things, how can it be expected to coexist with the rest of the world. A simple poem written about abused love shows our eventual and inevitable undoing.
Great poem!
- Nathaniel Jordan -