Latest quotes | Random quotes | Latest comments | Submit quote

Maddie Phish

Died red

O rose, Black rose,
how I can not let go,
I grip your pointed ends,
and even as red falls from my wounds,
I can only grip tighter
The red falls, and creates a mirror image,
of you, black rose, died red

The sweet aroma of you, Death Rose,
Drifts above our heads,
as we wander, aimlessly,
through streets died red.

poem by Maddie PhishReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share
 

If you know another quote, please submit it.

Search


Recent searches | Top searches