Truth.
I look at you
So beautiful.
Petals of youth
Velvet soft
Perfumed,
With the magnificence
Of Nature’s secrets
And I cry
For your thorns
Show me
That life is sad
Akin to pain,
And life itself
Is slowly slain.
And now,
In the mirrors
Of Time
A slight breeze blows,
Life losses glow
The sadness grows,
Oh Rose,
Divine
No longer mine.
Trying to cope with being alone,
Roses, as you sway,
In the dying light of day,
Memory winds play,
A saddened song.
Remembering,
Past images, display,
Moments, times foregone,
Then, without request,
Time stops or rests,
And Life loses,
What is its best:
‘A tender smile,
A pressing hand,
The Look of Love
A passion grand.’
You close your eyes
Your heart just cries.
It’s hard to breath,
The wind is cold,
Pain does not die,
It just grows old.
Roses,
You taught me with your Thorns
That life is sad, akin to pain,
That our poor lives are all in vain,
When Love is gone, we turn to Rain.