Love can be looked at as a flower.
Take the rose: beautiful, elegant, sought after.
Admired from a distance it seems perfect, without flaw,
You move closer, the illusion sustains, defences no more.
Adoration worn proudly like a crown,
You reach out, take it in your hands and bow down,
Absorbing the sight, the scent, the taste, the touch, the sound.
Suddenly you find yourself blind,
Struck with a lasting poison of the mind.
Looking away from the petals you realise,
Beneath the alluring head lies a body of thorns,
Speared through your entire self.
What could be worse than this to find?
You remember you are blind,
Thorns thrust through your eyes until your mind.
YOU ARE READING
Assorted poems of a MoonWolf
PoetrySimply a collection of my regularly written poems, varying in length, style and subject :) Cover provided by someone I haven't heard from in a while..
