The Dark Rose in the sunset
Its reflection off the blood pond
Sends a sense of security
To the person slain dead...
The rose's pitch black petals reflect off the glowing moon
Red blood moon burning the sky
Blazing light surrounds the rose
And brighter it had Bloom
Around its stem, the snake slither
It's pricked dead off the thorn
Nosferatu picks the delicate Flower
His cold touch makes it whither
He places it on the tombstone of his devoured soul
The Dark Rose regains its Bloom
For it is born from bloodshed
To that no one can comprehend
That it lives off the lost soul's distant end...
YOU ARE READING
A Million Cherry Blossoms
PoetrySomething can be beautiful and yet it can hurt you down to your core. The devil wears prada and he hides behind beautiful things. Outside appearances are just there to manipulate you.
