This black rose 
torn asunder
stare up in wonder 
at the thunder filled sky.

This black rose 
once so vibrant in it's lie,
at the heart, now part rotten,
blood red with bitter forgotten 
love.

Bleeding dripping,
through my fingers slipping 
over petals of black,
pooling and caking 
into dry wafers of crimson pain.

This black rose 
torn asunder,
is it any wonder...
Tearing and swirling,
in the pouring rain.

(c) 1999 by (++)Laura(++). All Rights Reserved