Rose Red
Rose, rose, my sweet rose red
doth thou see thy fate ahead?
The heavens cry dark arsenic rains
poisoning your fragile veins
Rose, rose, my sweet rose pale
the liquid death hath left thou frail
weak and withered, spirit worn
with stems turned black and petals torn
(June, 11, 2013)
Copyright © Morgan Mise | Year Posted 2013
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