Rose’s I Bring


It’s soft
It’s still
It’s beautiful
With its wilt there comes pain,
nothing ever will be the same.

Its perfume kills,
Signs of wear and tear,
life comes down with each petal
that decay’s.

A rose left to rot,
The sun will change what I wrought,
my rose’s I did bring
yet still my grave seems
lonely and bored.

Oh Lord lay me down,
Where my bed of rose’s
perfumed my gown.

The cold chilled my bones,
It’s soft
It’s still
It’s beautiful
With its rot there comes a day
when heaven will open wide
ready for my arrival.

My rose’s I bring
a token for death and a kiss
with my last breath.

Rose’s soft, still, and beautiful
broke my heart and pricked my lover
with its thorny branches,
as I was left to rot.

© By Amanda D Shelton

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Rose’s I Bring

Please Leave A Comment:

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s