The Black Rose
Black is the Rose,
as it stands for pain!
Dead
or tainted otherwise.
A sin stained Rose
Once Red or White
A Rose with a past like shadow
A Rose with a sin so heavy,
like ink,
it swells and spreads like disease,
turning what was once,
Passion!
or
Pure!
now,
a vile flower in the bed.
We fear this flower
We fear it's color
We fear it's wrath,
as it is a path the white rose may take.
A path we wish not to make.
The Black Rose
The sin drenched,
soul tainted,
corrupted,
Black Rose
You have an interesting perspective of a black rose, and many will probably share it. There can be beauty found even in the darkness, though. Forget the perfect offering, we all have our flaws. Heaven's Black Rose Down by the creek where nobody goes, they say there exists a pretty black rose. It's been there forever in a deep cosmic sleep, they say that it's destined forever to dream It doesn't know sorrow, it doesn't feel pain...
Black is the Rose, as it stands for pain! Dead or tainted otherwise. A sin stained Rose..... all blacks are not bad......dead nights also not bad....good write. read mine.. all baclks are... dead nights...butterflies aroudn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dear Wes, I believe we fear it because we fear the outcome of see the bad luck of the blake rose. Great poem. Heart felt. -Kylie