Post by Jessica Sparrow on Dec 9, 2006 21:15:23 GMT -5
((this is the most random poem i have written in a while, but, i hope sompne likes it. ;D ))
A rose may be any rose
then the rose that I chose
for my betroved,
so that he may behold
the real love of a single rose.
For that single rose
was one of those
that came as though in a pose,
to the capture of a tyrant.
A tyrant indeed;
that as though in heed,
to the rose in which I held,
and I stood in front of this man,
whom was so evil and damned,
that my rose had thus perished.
The pose which it held
was not upheld
fore the man did not wish to poses it.
The tears from my eyes
grew hungry and tired,
for the love in which
I was so eager to pull from him.
My plan was so grand,
to unleash the love in this man,
but yet all my attempts were for nothing.
And at the sight of my tears,
he opened his ears,
to the message in which
I had wished him to accept.
He wiped the tears from my eyes,
and no more did I cry.
For my betroved was now my beloved.
For the death of my rose
had been one of those
that came as those untarnished.
A rose may be any rose
then the rose that I chose
for my betroved,
so that he may behold
the real love of a single rose.
For that single rose
was one of those
that came as though in a pose,
to the capture of a tyrant.
A tyrant indeed;
that as though in heed,
to the rose in which I held,
and I stood in front of this man,
whom was so evil and damned,
that my rose had thus perished.
The pose which it held
was not upheld
fore the man did not wish to poses it.
The tears from my eyes
grew hungry and tired,
for the love in which
I was so eager to pull from him.
My plan was so grand,
to unleash the love in this man,
but yet all my attempts were for nothing.
And at the sight of my tears,
he opened his ears,
to the message in which
I had wished him to accept.
He wiped the tears from my eyes,
and no more did I cry.
For my betroved was now my beloved.
For the death of my rose
had been one of those
that came as those untarnished.
