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Evil Rose Poems | Evil Poems About Rose

These Evil Rose poems are examples of Evil poems about Rose. These are the best examples of Evil Rose poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballade | |

The sweet sienna Rose

Up in the hills of Greenhaven
There lives a lady there
A maid of such exquisite beauty
With long black velvet hair
And her eyes, her gentle eyes!
They made folk gently weep
And that lady had compassion
A thousand fathoms deep.

 She loved to walk the forest paths
That all around her lay
Where all the forest people lived
Who loved to sing and play
Sienna rose [this was her name]
She loved these forest folk
She’d often seek their company
And share a wine and joke.

These forest folk all loved their Rose
[That’s what they chose to call her}
Whenever she was there with them
Their pure hearts she would stir
So humble too, this lovely lass
Her essence so divine
And every where our Rose did go
The sun would surely shine.

One day our Rose was on a trek
Her heart brim filled with love
A raven flew above her head
And cackled from above
He told her of the evil witch 
The hated Esmeralda
And what that witch would do to her
If ever she should find her

Sienna Rose she smiled at him
Then said with a cheeky grin
Pray tell the lady Esmeralda
I have no wish to win
Then gaily she went on her way
With a dance so sweet like flowers
And all the trees and birds and bees
Bowed down to Roses power

Then soon because of fickle fate
She met there on her path
That evil witch, the Esmeralda
She heard her wicked laugh
Then she sighted to her fore
A dark and leering figure
Who looked at her with hate filled eyes
And gave an evil snigger’

Sienna Rose, she looked at her
With her gentle, angel smile
As both they gazed into each other
And in a little while
The face of Esmeralda witch
It softened just a mite
It seemed to some folk that, her look
It had a softer light.

Then she broke into a smile
Then chortled just a little
Then there came a great big grin
No longer she was brittle
Sienna Rose had touched the soul
Of a dark and lonely power
And showed her that the breath of love
Doth make all evil flower.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Verse | |

Either Way

If a poem or essay can end with a conclusion or its opposite, either one,
Can it be of any use to anyone?

Do the discrepancies and disparities, dualities and densities, reflect only
      the dementia
Of the bearer of the pencil?

First entertain, then enlighten if you can. One stretches truth in order to
another leavens with levity one’s inevitable end.

Most days it's not possible to bring your life into an expressible state.
      Disparate thoughts,
arduous chores, word choices. And, of course, the state of the state.

Driven by ideas rather than rhymes, for it is not metres, but a
      metre-making argument,
That makes a poem. What of it. Convenience store or university English

The day's arguments, down to the meaning of the weather, leave you
To share your heart of zero and your inner rose.

It is the strong force, the energy of the loved ones combined with
      cooperation for good or war.
Dad's years in New Guinea fighting Japs, he said, were his best by far.

The best that can be said or done is Be where you are. Love the one
      you're with
Not necessarily an adult of the opposite sex, perhaps just a kid who
      hates math

And school, dresses goth, reads rarely but learns a lot from movies and
Has the presence of mind to say I am who I am, deal with it. That's who
      I want to be

And have always been. Today clean the house, again. Woke up this
      morning to two thoughts:
How sweet to be alive! Life is tough.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow

Details | Couplet | |

One Second {Resubmit}

I once heard and had myself a taste
The emptiness of hell is as vast as space
I entered the vortex trying to find
How to drive the demons from my mind
Like a snake I learned to shed my skin
Found the door to my soul and crawled on in
It was as hollow as hollow can be
Full of pain, despair and agony
Like an Eagle gliding upon the wind
I traveled back through my own sin
Through the darkness I could barely see
Twisted souls crying out to me
For but a second I thought of a funny thing
My soul is like a novel by Stephen King
Just when I thought I could take no more
At the end of my soul I found a door
With all of the courage that I could find
I opened the door and entered my mind
The door vanished and with no place to hide
I faced the horrors I found on the other side
As I entered my mind I was able to see
The demons on other side of my reality
They were evil little twisted runts
Like a thousand army ants on the hunt
They had talons, fangs and eyes like a cave
That reflected how darkness was all they crave
They had stingers they used like electronic sutures
As they were connecting my past directly to my future
With all the love in my heart and soul
Battling them became my only goal
At the end of the battle all bloody and sore
I came upon another door
I opened the door knowing I would die
But found myself at the back of my eye
All was suddenly clear to see
Like a movie playing in-front of me
At the bottom of my flask with eyes insane
The devil was blowing a clear blue flame
As he blew the flame the bubbles started to roll
Releasing the ghost into my soul
The smoke rose and then condensed
Into acidic demons that ate through the fence
Ate through the fence and entered my mind
Connecting my past and future to keep me blind
The purple smoke that escaped rose to a throne
And formed the purple genie who welcomed me home
Then a metamorphous occurred before my eyes
And the genie transformed into the "father of lies"
I could see in his eyes and his evil grin
He felt that I belonged to him
In that revelation it occurred to me
I ask of the Lord to "set me free"
I could taste the salt as I formed in a tear
Which ended my journey and all of my fear
As soon as that tear fell from my eye
What had been lost in the night was blue as the sky
It’s taken me years to write this rhyme
About one second I spent in my mind
A second that is clear to see
Released my soul for eternity

Copyright © Michael Jordan