Previous Entry Share Next Entry
Roses Trilogy - The Art of Flower Dying
This is the first in a series of three poems with a theme. The poems get better progressively in my opinion. I hope you enjoy them.
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
This feeling of dread
Rips my soul in two.

But standing here torn
Between wrong and right.
I know that I'll mourn
My own death tonight.

I'll be pierced through the heart
By your arrow so straight.
It will tear me apart
Like so much has of late.

By your hand I'll be dead-
My skin cold and blue
The roses are red.
The violets are too.


Log in

No account? Create an account