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Open Poetry #45
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Suncleaver
Member
since 2009-01-18
Posts 481
Stafford England

0 posted 2009-08-04 05:00 AM



A rose of white, so soft to hold,
She flowers bleak with winter cold,
And bloodied petals speak of scars,
That show beneath the northern stars.

She drains me dry from soul and heart,
And feeds to bleed upon my art,
Her name is sorrow, bared in grace,
The lust she drinks, I can't replace.

Her opium for pains unbound
In passion, memories are found,
This winter flower, rose of white,
Will freeze my heart another night.


© Copyright 2009 Luke Doubtfire - All Rights Reserved
Margherita
Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236
Eternity
1 posted 2009-08-04 05:11 AM


Wow, dear Luke, was just closing, but I am glad I opened this and read it. It's magnetic power is so strong. Very captivating imagery. Beautifully done!

Love,
Margherita


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