Come Again
You were a rose,
A bleeding rose that projected the night,
And stole my soul soundly.
You made me feel nothing more than…
Minuscule,
I was,
For you were many miles high
As I climbed your stem,
Thorns of throat piercing words
And sorrowful lust stopped me
Momentarily,
For I bled,
Only to start again.
My blood was dark red beauty
Only to be compared to your petals
Of Evanescing pain.
I bled for you,
Great rose.
As I climbed,
I was drained of life,
Yet I went on for you,
My love,
My enemy,
My friend.
Your massive stem I was unable to climb.
Your beauty I was unable to reach,
But I will come again.
Copyright © Michael Guerra | Year Posted 2005
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