![]() Author has written 4 stories for Love, and Romance. Every poem I publish is written for/about the woman that I love. She is my pale rose. A pale white rose The petal's edges stained red with blood My blood Beads of my life source Cling to the points of her thorns My hands The blood flows freely Slowly draining my life The wounds caused by her thorns Refusing to close The thorns Drew blood from me The nourishment it needed to survive The heavenly sensation of holding her Blended with the pain of holding tight The rose is in front of me Just out of reach The sweet smell beckoning The beautiful petals Stealing my gaze White The color of life and the color of death To grasp the rose is to staunch the stream Of blood and rescue me from the grave If she remains out of reach, I will give forth one final breath For the blood she took My love unconditional Should she refuse to take it now It should surely kill me For my life is my love I long to feel the exquisite pain Of those wicked thorns piercing my flesh Of you drawing my love directly from the source Reveling in that ultimate paradox By taking my life, you in turn give it to me A pale white rose Both cruel and kind Allow me to take thee to hand again I beseech you Give me life, or let me perish A pale white rose The petal's edges stained red with blood Draw forth my love once more Take my love to give me life I beg of you, don't let me die |