• pen_and_paper 32w

    Black rose immortal

    ///The return of a dead soldier from the ruined continent of frozen wounds, the return of cold winds from the burning city///

    Moonlight caresses the top of a lonely hill,
    black rose immortalized
    blackened like my naked soul;
    shine ablaze with frost bite scarring my portrait of past life;

    The rocks on moon devoid of faith,
    carried oxygen and treason;
    iron yet to rust, yet to be found,
    water seen nowhere and a grave
    with sight of summer,
    the black rose immortal,
    shines admist the fevered blood,
    injections and vaccination
    of ungodly talk at ungodly hours,
    still calm at mind with peace,
    the black rose stands, yet again.

    Floating on the top most layer of frozen mist,
    holding my wrist in the grip of the air,
    it howls looking me in the eye,
    it won't let me escape until I die,
    they let the black night sleep in my blood,
    the sounds I made, disappeared,
    Obscure, unsettling, unrest,
    reappeared as the thorns,
    of the black rose immortal.

    Once again, they cried,
    the lake, through with I did sail,
    like a morning star,
    I laugh whenever I see them cry,
    I smile when I let them die,
    I told them, I was there,
    when they let the frostbite on my hand freeze,
    and through the fire and flames,
    rose the black rose immortal.

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