27 Oct 2010

Black Rose

Dark are her eyes,
Darker her curls.
Fair as the frozen snow,
Fast as the dashing antelopes.
Gentle curve of her lips,
The color of raspberry.
The trail of her black gown,
Swishing as she glides,
A sight to behold no mortal will disagree.
Sweet is her voice with a rasping last note.
Touch of a finger and she erases all wound.
Misery and memory of mortal world,
She takes them away and frees the soul.
Glare of her pretty stare,
Poison to the lousy soul.
To merge in those liquid eyes,
To seek those sacred mysteries,
Many a man has gone to the land beyond..
The nectar of life she takes away,
Angel of death, that is her..
Black Rose..