The Silence of the Rose
Silent rose, adrift on the morning's breeze,
In my misty, pale garden, she sails free,
Yet her scent makes my nose sneeze,
Paradox of quietude and vibrancy,
Her whispers like bells, sweet and clear,
Over bridges of time, a longing swells,
Truth is stretching my ears, I can't but hear,
A symphony of emotions, she compels,
Deafening silence, harsh and intense,
Overwhelms me with its weight,
Strips smile from stars, leaving no defense,
Leaving me hurt, groaning in its gait,
Her silence a sword, piercing deep and true,
Reopening scars, long thought healed,
Drawing tearing like raindrops, on cue,
From clouded eyes, emotion was revealed,
Creeping, crackling through the closed door,
Into chambers of my guarded heart,
Unmindful of vengeance, it seeks no more,
Leaving pain in its wake, a painful art,
Bottomless depth, the silence of the rose,
Lulls my soul to faint within its hold,
In this cradle of peace, where hearts repose,
Alone, feeling safe and bold,
|