I stare blankly at the blackened sky
Holding the black rose and its needles of pain
My hand bleeds
My heart dies
My souls weeps for you’re not by my side
The blanket of sleep obscures my tired soul
Freeing me from the lesions you’ve made
Drifting me into the world of the unknown
My hand turns ice
My heart burns dry
My soul fleets from its home
Still i hold the black rose and its broken thorns…
[...] have longed that someone may give me a black rose. I have once created a poem about person, hhmmm, shall we put it, I once loved. My pain is not the black rose I refer but [...]