Amera Andersen

(12/03/81 / New Jersey)

Black Rose


strolling the garden on a moonlit eve
petals dance at the caress of my skirt
mystic redolence in the evening breeze
draws my heart to the place of the black rose

I stop to talk to the rose and listen
beauty in velvet petals, grace with thorns
with hints of purple and traces of blood
it's the black rose that is one with my soul

absorbing the love of your efflorescence
endearing in your delicate beauty
defense by thorn, I see myself in you
O my black rose, I know you understand

I wanted him so as he held me close
is it by thorn that loneliness claims us?

Submitted: Saturday, July 14, 2007
Edited: Monday, March 21, 2011

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