Upon Pink Roses Poem by Elliot Moore Ahiator

Petal by petal,
she bid morn to the light bearer
and soon before his mid journey
across the blazing heavens,
smitten was I forever.

Upon me she smiled,
beauty aliken heaven’s own adorning.
Soul and heart captured
in eternity’s unwavering grasps.

Lost, I, in abyss beyond.
In irons fettered, escape denied
for prisoner of war, Yea! be i
upon bloodied battlefield, the twain,
heart and common sense locked vengeful blades

A single glance it all but took
and my soul was thus made wretch anew.
In bliss I remain wanton as hourglass bleeds dry
and lunacy becomes a state divine,
fashioned regrettably only for all that choose the folly of love

Be there no agent of salvation?
Be there none to rid me of my misery?
Nay! Alas, none. Gaze not upon such blight,
for though it’s rewards be noth but true pain and many regrets.
A full cycle, I willingly will run yet again.