Roses
This life mirrors a rose.
A beautiful vision, but a pain to feel.
Needled stems causes blood to stem from my flesh.
Draining my veins of the rosy red essence of life
that flowed through my bloodstream.
The blood flows like lava after a volcanic eruption
as it burns my flesh.
Due to pain inflicted by the war wounds of life.
These women are as bittersweet as roses.
The sweet smell of their scents is intoxicating,
but how detrimental the touch.
Misusing your heart as a voodoo doll
and pinning your heart to their memoirs of affliction.
Left in a state of fantasy.
To the point you have to constantly question if the feeling is real.
Often getting no answers.
And other times you find out their stories of deep sentiment
were just fairy tales narrated by deception.
The Ups turn up downs.
Soon downs come back around.
The constant contradiction leaves you
mentally exhausted and sick.
Life is like a roller coaster.
Rolling coasting thoughts through my mind.
When it gets too heavy, I'm overdosing.
Drugs are the potion, at least until I reach my limits.
I realized there's no one I can give devotion.
Roses, truly a pretty scene.
Roses stem with subtle knives.
To your back they intervene.
Infliction deeply applied,
Until love and reality becomes obscene.
Heaven belongs to God,
but this place called Earth is Satan's playground.
The difference between angels
and demons is to where they are bound.
Both with wings, one with horns.
Mistaking horns for halo, will leave you forever scorn.
Copyright © M.N.I.W M.N.I.W | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment