The Will of the Rose

March 10, 2010
By Anyalisse PLATINUM, Gering, Nebraska
Anyalisse PLATINUM, Gering, Nebraska
37 articles 7 photos 11 comments

After watching this world go by,
For years and years,
And witnessing,
The Rose's work,
On us all.
The bloody testimonies,
Burned into their memories,
For all time.
The many sharp keys to freedom,
Stained red for all time.
The stream of crimson regret,
Flowing through a house haunted,
By pure sorrow.
My eyes darken with this knowledge.
My arm show my regret of my prying.
My voice,
Is empty.
My soul,
Is forever stained,
By the Rose's influence,
In this world,
And with this knowledge,
Comes the fact,
That soon,
Very soon,
The Rose of Death shall call to me.
Call me from this darkness,
This lonliness,
This bloody sorrow.
Call me home,
Where I am welcome.
Where mirrors show my beauty,
And not my flaws.
Where no one sees the scars,
Where everyone loves me,
And no one is harsh.
Where light can overcome darkness,
And joy rules over sorrow.
But until it calls for me,
I shall sit,
And watch this world go by.
Watching all the Rose's work,
And realizing,
That we all live,
By the will of the Rose.

The author's comments:
Nothing much to say about this one. Another in the Rose of Death series and one of my best. Not as good as Rose of Death itself. That one has a little bit of eerieness to it everytime I read it. It's my prize. This poem is simply stating the truth. Death rules us all and it's best if we don't realize that. We all start dying the moment we're born. Life is short people. Live it or die!

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