Midnight rose

My midnight rose, who dwells in crumbled stone!

I crave your scent; your fragrance makes me yearn

For moments past, for dreams and days long gone,

For distant lands, for paths with no return.

The stars are gone; the world will soon remain

Black as your heart, and ignorant of pain

That plagues the souls of those who dare to hope,

Who cannot tell themselves to call a stop.

My twilight rose! The field of war still burns,

The battle in my heart will never end.

I reach for you, forgetful of your thorns,

But you slip through my hands like fickle sand.

The woods, the smells and sounds of summer night - 

These memories make me your helpless prey.

I'm yearning for the day, for morning's light,

Forgetting I will die with first sun's ray.