Burning Rose

A burning rose encased in glass,
Stands in rapture,
Hoping this breath is her last,
A burning rose consumed by fire,
Cries for help,
Her situation dire

She stands remembering times long gone,
Dark memories haunt her,
As she waits for her dawn,
Dawning of peace,
And dawning of joy,
But that’s far away,
All she is now is a mere toy

So now a soul burns,
Set on the path of no return,
She longs for death,
To end her torment,
To erase her mind of the torturous event

So a burning rose encased in glass,
Stands in rapture,
Hoping this breath is her last,
And out went her last breath,
At last she got rest in sweet death,
So a burning rose is nowhere to be found,
All you see are ashes on the ground.

 

 

Made by Black Rose