Black Roses

Most beautiful thing you’ll ever see
Black roses
Growing, flowing, silky sweet
Seeds splitting to bud
crawling forth from the mud
petals patter against the wind
a fleeting motion
of pure emotion

Gardener of the Gods
fields of feathers falling
from the sky
Angels molting for summer
sun beaming brightly
only for her

Thorn pricks upon the skin
can never deter
me from loving her
rarest of any flower
bathing in a silver shower
mercuric melody
of metal dancing delicately
all around me

  A black rose is that special someone that you were lucky enough that people overlooked for the simple cardboard cut out red roses prancing around in a desperate attempt to conceal their almost incalculable character flaws.

  The trick is knowing whether you are standing before a flowing rose of cobalt black or simply a rose painted by the queen’s cards.

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