My Murderer
Ironically, once a murderer,now the the victim, stood in silent remorse,
Never uttered a word of rememberance,
in reverence of my pallid corpse,
that lay in the graveyard of the offence.
He mercilessly plucked a rose from his garden, a remembrant.
A tear moistened the ground as he placed it on my oasis.
The ashen rose adorned me as my last ornament,
as I gladly named myself ashes of roses.
Never uttered a word of rememberance,
in reverence of my pallid corpse,
that lay in the graveyard of the offence.
He mercilessly plucked a rose from his garden, a remembrant.
A tear moistened the ground as he placed it on my oasis.
The ashen rose adorned me as my last ornament,
as I gladly named myself ashes of roses.
fabulous ...
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
DeleteFrom the silent ashes of the fallen rose,
ReplyDeleteRises again a song of happy abandon;
And the knife that killed my dreams,
Lives free and knows love again :)
Your musings always come with a plateful of food for thought. What you have written is beautiful. Preserve it.
Delete