Midnight Rose
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The blackened fog that veils nocturnal lust
has draped the virtue of a virgin dawn
while carnivores, entombed beneath the dust,
unleash to prey upon a heedless fawn.
The garish moon shall leer its pallid glare
into the pitch of night where shadows wane.
In luring light, it's captured in a snare
with ligatures that cut into the vein.
But blood flows ebon through the twilight throes.
In darkness, color’s essence will conceal.
This night will not receive my midnight rose
for scarlet nectar covets a reveal.
Fear not my purist flower of the night,
your petals will unveil in morning’s light.
Copyright © Mark Massey | Year Posted 2022
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