by Haley Wilson

Created on: July 22, 2008

The Black Rose

There is a fable of a rose
It blooms while all else dies
Brought up by the despair of other
And fueled by their mourful cries

A flower as dark as the cloak of death
But as pure as an angel's wings
Though the death march is sounding
A song of peace this rose still sings

As drab as a gray cloud
This flower spends its days
Waiting until the strongest falls
And the loyalist, betrays

The desolate rose does bloom
Revealin its petals of silver and red
It sways with grace and life
Though all else is dead

From the world it hid its beauty
So everything else could live
Waiting for us to take the hand of misery
Before sustaining life it would give

For thought the night seems endless
And it appears as if we've lost the fight
Ther is always a black rose among us
For dark will never outlast light.

Learn more about this author, Haley Wilson.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.