Within the beauty of the rose. The thorns of life surely grows.To prick the flesh, providing pain. To keep in check. To keep us sane.
Who's scent to please through battle scars.Beneath the beauty of the stars.Night to watch her peddles close. As in strenght she surely grows.
Now I sit to write her declaration. I openly gaze, peering in admiration. I watch her beauty as she grows. Thorns to prick, strenght of the rose.
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-10-21 04:58:04
Last Login: 02.09.12
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