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The Silence Of The Rose
The silence of the rose sets herself to sail,
Midst oceans of early morning breeze,
In my garden misty, gray and pale,
Scares off my nose to sneeze,
The silence of the rose whispers into my ears,
Her voice sweet as song of the bells,
A longing that leaps over bridges of years,
The truth that stretch my ears to swell,
The silence of the rose deafening and harsh,
Swooping over me too overwhelming,
Ripping the solemn nights all it's smiles in the stars,
Stripping all my worth left me hurt and groaning,
The silence of the rose is sharp and piercing,
Deep into the scars of the long healing wound,
And clear crystalline tears so naked fall and breaking,
Merge into the dusts of the dry thirsty ground,
The silence of the rose creeps and crackles’
Through the slit of the closed door of my heart,
Bouncing on it’s chambers scraping on the walls,
The pain so it cause tears bursting from the start,
The silence of the rose bottomless in it's depth,
Lulls my helpless soul to faint in his grief,
Cuddling my heart so cozy in my death,
Lay me in the cradle lone in peace and safe,
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