Wednesday, January 4, 2012

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.

3 comments:

Lady Anne said...

Oh, that is so lovely! Did you write it, Anna?

Mrs. Anna T said...

Yes, this is the first time in a long while that I wrote poetry, so I published it here even though it doesn't strictly coincide with the theme of my blog! :)

Rachel said...

That's epic.