Black Rose
Peace seems like a once-written myth, now blurred from sight,
like wrathful willows floating along sullen streams.
There, stars linger to trace lost love in twilight’s grace,
amidst the bitter cold wind roaring through the night.
But is a black rose not a rose if kissed with warmth?
When petals wilt, reignite kismet flames of light.
We are the poets of a crisp dawn sketched in gold.
Together, we erase veiled wrongs with ink so bright.
For hope can weave fragments of faith from lunar dreams;
love lost in twilight’s grace, there stars linger to trace~
verses to calm sinister skies of hate and plight.
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