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The Undying Rose Of Unspeak

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After a war there was a rose.
Blood soaked by battles of endless soldiers.
Not a thorn it has to cut, but as red as crimson can get.
It stood strong through the fire.
The beauty it has can only get higher.
After a flood stands a rose.
Its roots were washed and its peddles were torn.
Beauty it has still and not have a thorn.
Through the mud it still rays of red.
Even after all else was dead.
This rose it still stands for you.
When there is nothing you can do.
This rose will remind of peace;
resembles your undying beauty and strength.
This rose is for you and you should keep.
The eternal holiness that was planted by me.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

neenbean23 said...
Feb. 13, 2009 at 4:30 am
My young wordsmith friend, once again you have proven your eloquence. Even fragile beauty can shine through adversity and the contrast makes it that much more precious. Words have great power and you have the pen. I really like this one. Charlene
 
Dad said...
Feb. 13, 2009 at 3:19 am
EXCELLENT! EXCELLENT! EXCELLENT!....I understand this.....
 
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