Her dress was Crimson,
Scarlet, Cherry Red,
The color that paints,
Stains the skin dead.
Her eyes were Silver,
Moonlit, Ashy Grey,
The hue of the storms,
That shadow over day.
Her skin was Porcelain,
Snowy, Ghostly White,
The shade of thieves, monsters,
Creatures of the night.
Her hair was Raven,
Ebony, Midnight Black.
The darkness of contrast,
That chases the light back.
And she was Radiant,
Thorny, ever Light
As no eye has seen a flame
That burned quite that bright.
They called her Rose.
Rose, as in the Bloody, Dangerous Bloom,
It symbolizes romance,
For romance is bound to doom.
YOU ARE READING
Deepest Afflictions to Random Speculations
PoetrySometimes We cry Sometimes We laugh Sometimes It's one of the same thing Warning: may contain strong language, adult themes, and an unnecessary amount of "extra".
