Black Rose Death in Poetry

  • Sept. 23, 2020, 7:39 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

The morning dew
Brings the stench of death
A black rose
Lays out on the ground
And I wrap it in foil
So our love doesn’t spoil

The clouds blot out the sun
The darkness appears to erase everything
That stains my mind
As memories rewind
Traversing time
In my meditative mind

Everything comes to a standstill
And I feel as if
I’m in outer space
Floating to find my star
A love to lead the way
Through all the debris
Life uses to bury me

Not everyone
Has the chance to set the stage
And cheat the design
Not everyone
Has the chance
To make it out
Of hell alive
Especially if you don’t understand
The secular design

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