This is a poem written by a very IMPORTANT and SPECIAL friend of mine. His old work was great but this is his most recent work. His book comes out soon and you should buy it or at least pick it up. It's called The Kwiska Valley. So go get it and read this!!! =)
Rose’s Cry
A Beautiful black rose sits alone in a yard,
She stands so tall through the wind that cries.
With thorns that protect it’s only life,
She stands so tall as she slowly dies.
A storm in the distance will seal her fate,
With rain of sorrow and winds that break.
Releasing her last leaf right before her fall,
The wind wails her name as it starts to call.
Brushing aside her final leaf,
She awaits her time to bloom next spring.
Retaining her thorns as her body stands tall,
She stabs away at the cold’s mighty claws.
It’s here in the spring the black rose takes her bud,
She stands there with her children through fall so rough.
Never in the wind will she ever stand alone.
She’ll stand with her children upon her mighty throne.
Together as a garden they dance with pride,
Dancing their tears away, of a Rose’s Cry.
 Jazman-2 · Sat May 24, 2008 @ 12:47am · 0 Comments |
