The Rose

A darkened rose,
The color of night,
Petals of thorns,
And browning leaves.

A dying rose,
That forever bleeds,
Obscured by fog,
Struck by disease.

A growing rose,
Caged by thorns,
No humans dare to pick it,
While monsters crush it's being.

A deadly rose,
Petals of burgundy,
Thorns dripping blood,
And leaves forever furling.

Reviews

[BLACKBEARD]

i like this poem. it is short and concise yet it is very descriptive. like how you stuck to the title of the poem and didn't lose your train of thought. i also like the fact that each stanza finds a new way to describe this particular rose. the way that i see it, this rose can also be a metaphor for the darkness within ourselves