The crimson red rose
Lies wilted on the pure white snow
Like a straw has drained the vibrant beauty it once held
Dry, it lays still.
The crimson red rose
Petals lies still on the pure white snow
Like small whimpers in the
Wind, it is the only trace
Of what it should be...
Beautiful.
The crimson red rose
Lays withering on the pure white snow
Looking helpless and begging for someone to care,
Yet they all watch.
They watch as it droops sadly
The little rose,
The marvelous rose
The pretty rose lays still,
Unmoving on the snowy white sand.
YOU ARE READING
House of everything and nothing
AléatoireIn this house... In my house I will tell you everything. Everything and nothing.
